A Guiding Life

Emily Wilding Davison's broom cupboard

>> Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Well, not really hers, but she made it famous.

Source: John Prescott, Twitter

Emily Davison hid in a broom cupboard in order to be registered as resident at the House of Commons for the census on 2nd April 1911.

A great coup from a fantastically brave women. Remember women had no right to vote in 1911 and yet were being asked to complete a census form that asked many questions about them personally, about their status, occupation, even fertility.

Some women purposely stayed away from home on the night to avoid having to complete it, some simply wrote on the form 'if I am intelligent enough to complete this, I am intelligent enough to put a cross on a voting paper'.

But what a score to have your address for the night registered as “Found hiding in the crypt of Westminster Hall since Saturday” and a follow up note that says “apply Common Row police station for more information”.

The original census documents can be seen here.

Emily Davison was no stranger to the police and not just for chaining herself to railings. Her offences included stone throwing, arson and a violent attack on a man. In prison she went on hunger strike and was force fed.

The broom cupboard stay, I think, is a great moment, probably her greatest.

But she continued to take extreme measures though. In June 1912 she threw herself down a staircase in Holloway prison to protest about Suffragettes being force fed. She suffered severe head and spinal injuries.

The action she is remembered mostly for is her, probably unintentional, death under the King's horse at Epsom in 1913. She had a return train ticket, she even had tickets for a dance that night. The thought is she was trying to put a flag onto the horse so it had a protest flag on it as it went through the finishing line. What a thing that would have been. But sadly she died as a result of her injuries.

What is even sadder is the jockey, 40 years later, committed suicide. When Emmeline Pankhurst died he had laid a wreath at her funeral, 17 years after Emily Davison's death. So it had clearly stayed with him. Whatever her intention had been, I'm sure it couldn't have been this.

I've always found this film precis of the Suffragette movement an interesting reminder.

Many of these women gave up a lot for the women of today, much more than a night in a broom cupboard. I wish I could say thank you.

Chocolate, Chocolate everywhere and not a piece to eat.

>> Sunday, February 24, 2013

Well Lent is upon us again. As usual I have given up chocolate and alcohol.

I was expecting alcohol to be a breeze, I rarely drink these days and it gives me such a dreadful hangover if I have even one glass of wine so I usually don't think drinking is worth it. But now I know I can't have a drink, blimey I've fancied a glass of wine. Funny old thing the way the mind works.

But chocolate, now I NEED chocolate and I NEED it daily. So I'm really feeling this one big time. I've always struggled with a chocolate free lent and failed in the past. I take extra magnesium etc etc but my body needs it, it screams for it. I am that chocolate addict. So I guess Lent is good for me and so it should be. It is important to refocus the mind in the lead up to Easter.

But how to manage the dreadful sweet food cravings: well, I've nosed dived into frozen yogurt mainly. Copiously covered in golden syrup! Obviously.

As luck would have it, as I was moping around the kitchen peering into cupboards in the vague hope that something chocolateless and caloriesless and yet totally satiating would jump out, this arrived. My house hasn't been so clean since last Lent! If you want to see the true depths of my filth, look here.

When my first husband gave up smoking he was sitting on the sofa watching tv, suddenly he jumped up, fetched a saw and sawed down the stair's banisters. He said he felt much better afterwards. I'm hoping the steam cleaner will help me overcome similar 'I need chocolate' urges. I am however, also recognising the need for one of these:

I have also decided my positive side of Lent is that I must either run or walk 3km every day. I've become quite walk slack since the weather has been so bad. Initially my intention was to use the slendertone everyday too, but that fell by the wayside after day 2. Another big fat fail. I seem to have a remarkable success rate in failure.

Still, it'll all seem better when the weather picks up....right?!

I don't just want to sit at the table, I want to be able to discuss the shape

>> Friday, February 22, 2013

"I don't just want to sit at the table, I want to be able to discuss the shape of the table where I am sitting."

What an incredible quote and it hit home to me. I am nolonger just prepared to be happy because women are accepted into a man's world. I want to see women shaping that world.

UN Women are helping to do just that.

Happy Thinking Day

Things I learnt this week

>> Thursday, February 21, 2013

I keep finding these in my kitchen. Rather than just yell at COG to clean up after herself, I decided to ask for the 'story behind them'. It actually turned out to be quite reasonable.

My cat flap has a battery in it! Who knew?! Well the patient and charming man at PetMate customer services did. He politely listened to my drivel about having to tape down the 'little red bit' and strays coming in before he really, really carefully explained to me how to change the battery.

No, seriously, is that obvious?!

I must have that known once. My memory does worry me.

Everything looks so bright and lovely when the sun finally decides to come back from it's holidays in the southern hemisphere.

But all the tourists or at least more locals turn up at my favourite haunt. It's so empty and runnable when it's cold and miserable!

But you don't have to go very far to lose them all again. If you spot the poo bag in the picture, the dog walker left it there whilst she finished her walk and collected it on her way back.

A visit to the Royal Mews

>> Saturday, February 16, 2013

Another snowy start. Off to London again. Cheap train ticket paid for with vouchers from previously delayed trains - bonus - there always has to be a silver lining to travel delays!

The Royal Mews is open all year with some exceptions, and is fairly cheap at £8.50 an adult. It's small with only a few coaches to see, but it is worth it. The glass coach used for weddings, the state coaches for the opening of parliament. The Australian coach is a modern dream and yet looks as old as the others. There is also a huge Rolls Royce and the tack room to see.

It's a working place, I felt quite privileged to be there really. It still amazes me that these places that were once so sacred now allow us plebs to trudge around them.

There were only a few horses there, the stables were mostly empty. But the horses that were there were so beautiful. I have no idea why I took a photo of an empty stable and not a beautiful horse. As COG says 'you're weird mum'. I wondered if they would look at the nags at our local riding school with disdain or whether they would just be normal animals and frolic in the fields with them anyway. Apparently the horses were all at Hampton Court doing what horses like to do over a bucket of fizz and soft tones of Barry White wafting over the hay bales. They will be back at the Mews in the summer. Which is ok because if you get your ticket stamped you can go back as many times as you like in the year.

The main reason the £8.50 is worth paying is to see this.

It is enormous. It is beautifully breathtaking. It is quite incredible. It's the Coronation Coach.

Oh yes, note the total lack of people there. Yup - we were lucky enough to be 2 of 6 people that were in there in the whole time we were there. That's what happens when you go on cold snowy days out of season I guess!

If you want a few 'I woulds': there were no queues when I was there but there are only 2 ticket desks so if you get the chance I would get your ticket on the web in advance. It's not a timed ticket so it won't matter what time you actually arrive. There are toilets in there that you can go to as soon as you are in, so don't worry about having to use the public loos before you get there. There isn't a coffee shop, so if you plan on doing this before your timed ticket to Buckingham Palace you've a long wait for one. If I was doing both, I would do the house first. I used the free audio guide and found it really interesting, I recommend it.

How weird is this picture - I obviously pressed the button as the camera was in my hand but how strange is the bulls eye glass effect, I quite like it.

So, we had another good day out. From the Mews we walked up to Westminster Abbey but by the time we got there we were too cold to queue to go in, so we did what all 'ladies what lunch' do and went to Harrods for a cuppa and a burger! Now there's posh for you.

We wandered down to the V&A for another warming cuppa and to look in the fashion gallery for a while.

And back to St Pancras to catch the train home with HWMBO. I'm sure he loved our chatter on the way home after his intense day at the office, no really. No you are right....tired office workers and tourists on the train are not a good mix. Apologies to all the 5:15 from Londoners who had no desire to hear all about the carriages.

Broken Ripples

Sometimes I feel like every thing good I do, each good turn, each guide supported, each friend helped is like throwing a pebble into a still pool. The ripples emanate out, each a show of happy, fulfilled, pleasant, good, every thing life should be.

Every time I drop a clanger, get annoyed, lose patience or even just argue a futile point on twitter it feels like a streaming river runs through my beautiful and precise ripples. The surface of the water becomes a busy mess.

It can take a long time for my surface to clear again before I see clearly the good that comes from the pebbles. Sometimes I feel that my stream of clangers runs so fast the pool will never clear again.

Sometimes I see one thing and I feel like the world is an ok place to be really.

HWMBO used to come to 'help' me empty the dishwasher when he heard the cutlery tray being emptied, it used to be the last thing I took out. It's now the first. It works so much better than nagging.

Bloody Running

>> Thursday, February 14, 2013

There probably isn't much else to say except serves me right for not wearing my long running bottoms.

At least it proves I'm on the move again at the moment.

Yes, I do girls, lots of them!

>> Wednesday, February 13, 2013

This week's Gallery is 'Girls'. This has been really hard for me. My life is stuff choca full of girls: 538,000 if we include all the Guiding members I haven't bumped into yet.

There were at least 2000 at Charnwood and 12,000 at the Big Gig...so I'm trying my hardest to meet them all!

I love this picture from the Big Gig:

Lights over 12,000 Guides.

I can't imagine anything ever matching the feeling of closeness I got at Charnwood 2011. I have poured through the photos loving every second of it but not a single one captures the strength of feeling I have about it.

So I spent some time updating my montage video with Charnwood, the Big Gig and of course my mountain top moment on the Mall. I hope you have 3 minutes to spare so you too can feel my passion:

Trains and I

>> Sunday, February 10, 2013

My idea of fun when COG was little was to park at the local station, catch the train one stop to the busy station, walk over the bridge and catch the train back.

The nice man in uniform at the station knew I was in it for the journey, for the love of sitting on the train and it was long enough ago for him to still have control of the car park barrier. We did this short hop journey so often that he just lifted the barrier and didn't charge me parking. I think he recognised my love of trains as I hoped from foot to foot, excitedly buying my ticket.

COG on the other hand was usually bored and ignoring my cries of 'oh look horsey, ooooh tractor, ohhhhh another train'. Even from an early age she would roll her eyes and pretend to be an orphan.

"Don't you want to look out honey? It's lovely out there"

"oooh, oooo, oooo, look! It's a thing, a thing thing, Bob the builder thing"

"FARM! There's a farm, definitely a farm"

"why are you banging your head on the wall sweety? Come look quick, there's cows"

Poor kid!

No, I mean REALLY understanding

>> Friday, February 08, 2013

This question has been nagging me for a while:

Do you have to experience something first hand to really understand the situation?

When I first read about Girl Guiding's new CEO Julie Bentley, I was surprised by the lack of "as a Guide" or "working with the such and such Unit" comments. I have no doubt at all that she is totally qualified and experienced to be our CEO, the job description is not one for mere mortals, you need true grit and I'm sure she has it.

But this bothers me:

Overall purpose of job:
To work in partnership with the Chief Guide (Chair of trustees) to:
provide vision and leadership for the whole organisation
develop and deliver the overall strategy for the ongoing development and management of Girlguiding UK.

Can a leader really provide a vision that will work and leadership we can follow, if that leader has never experienced what is being lead?

Julie Bentley is visiting units but she isn't doing the week in week out responsibility. She isn't feeling like she has to climb a mountain each term trying to get Rangers to plan their own meetings and then actually turn up and do what they planned.

She hasn't tried to call a parent in an emergency when the new policy is that you can't hold paper records of your contact details and your internet connection has died.

Each of these things are minor and surmountable, they are just examples of week to week drag: the same girls, the same cold hall, the same 'more fundraising' for the same issues over and over and over. Do you need to feel this pain to really appreciate that it is damned hard sometimes?

Can you really empathise, really understand it and create workable policies without ever having experienced it? Guiding often has 'working parties' and I do believe that the experiences of the Unit Leaders filters through. Our Chief Guide is a Guider herself, as was our founder. I really think that it is a unique experience to be a Guider in Charge, to keep turning up to keep on keeping on. Also known to Scout leaders and other voluntary youth workers.

Do you need to have experienced that to be able to successfully 'provide vision and leadership for the whole organisation'?

This isn't just about Guiding. What about Government? Should the Secretary of State for Health have any idea about how a hospital runs. Try this for Jeremy Hunt's experience:

"After university Hunt worked for a short period of time as a management consultant, and then decided to pursue life as an English language teacher in Japan. Whilst living in Japan he became a proficient speaker of the Japanese language and enthusiast of modern Japanese and other east Asian cultures.
On his return to Britain he tried his hand at a number of different entrepreneurial business ventures, including a failed attempt to export marmalade to Japan. Hunt joined Profile PR, a public relations agency specialising in IT which he co-founded with Mike Elms, a childhood friend. With clients such as BT, Bull Integris, and Zetafax Profile did well during the IT boom of the mid-1990s."

I'm not feeling overly confident here about my NHS being in safe hands.

Does it matter? I've always felt that success is more about the cognitive intelligence and core ability of a person than of their actual qualifications and indeed, experience. But surely there has to be an element of understanding the nitty gritty to truly lead successfully.

I am a firm believer in 'back to the shop floor' not for one visit, or even multiple visits but for a solid amount of time, in the same place and getting your hands dirty. In some companies this could be almost impossible as the shop floor varies so widely but for some companies it's not so hard.

And for Girl Guiding it's a bit of a no brainer, you've just got to have the keys to a cold church hall, in your work coat pocket as you battle the traffic so you aren't late, to feel your grumbling tummy whilst you listen to grumbling Rangers and then laugh as they start to tell you a story about their Young Leader night and how much their Brownies loved it. Perhaps you have a little Brownies looking up at you wide eyed with pride as they have just lit their first ever candle, maybe it's a little bouncy Rainbow so excited just to be there......

....for Girl Guiding it's definitely a no brainer, Julie Bentley needs to run a Guide unit for a solid term. If she can come out a Guide meeting after a term of teen hormones, sulking, stooping, chewing Guides with her head still held high....

then "And—which is more—you’ll be a man, my son!"

Or even better you'll be a Guider, my love.

Microdiscectomy A Year On

>> Thursday, February 07, 2013

This time last year I was unable to sit in a car without the seat being almost fully reclined and I couldn't last longer than 20 minutes even then.

I could walk, I've always been able to walk and if I'd pushed myself to breaking point I bet I could have run sometimes too.

Some mornings I used to wake up with my right leg in so much pain I could only lie on the floor and cry.

I had a microdiscectomy in February 2012. I ended up having 8 weeks off work. I've had 3 reherniations since and it's been a slow journey to where I am today.

I can drive - bonus, I go to work - I think that's a bonus, I can cut my toe nails - definitely a bonus, I can dry my feet, put on socks, tie my own shoes - these are all things I couldn't do this time last year.

I walk, I've always walked! I occasionally run, but because I've stopped I'm unfit again now and ever being able to do what I could before seems like an impossible dream still.

I still can't drive or sit for long, an hour maybe. We did go to the cinema once this year, even in the good seats it was hard going. I have to stand up a lot if we go for a meal. Sitting is just too hard. I've cancelled holiday plans over and over because I can't imagine sitting on a plane. The doctor wouldn't sign me as fit to do my jailbreak challenge with the Rangers and that would be 18 months after my op. Sometimes I still feel like a cripple, not in terms of pain but because of how my life style is still restricted to ensure I'm not in pain.

The hardest thing I can think of is emptying the dishwasher, I hurt as soon as I do it. I miss being able to garden. I miss being able to push grass sledges, go on the climbing wall, I miss just being able to do the damned shopping.

My family have mainly forgotten that I have a back problem I think, they happily watch me doing all the things I probably shouldn't be doing, like the dishwasher, putting cases in the attic, carrying heavy camping bags. My family don't even realise I have pain anymore, I've given up saying anything.

But I can walk! And I can dress. I can drive to and from the school and work. I've done cooking on a residential weekend and I have discovered I can travel quite comfortably in first class on the train.

So it's not all bad. I wonder if it will ever be all good.

At the beginning I expected to be fixed in a few weeks, then the doctors said a few months, then they said 9 months. Slowly I think I'm getting a little better, doing a little more (than I should probably!).

I'm mainly without leg pain. Sometimes I get a gripe but sometimes both my legs feel the same, as in a good same. I think you probably have to have had long term sciatica to understand what I mean there. I remember once thinking if I could hit my leg with a hammer to break it then the pain would change, a broken leg was a better option to sciatica. I definitely haven't had that feeling for many months. This is a good thing.

So it's not all bad, it's not all good but I still live in hope. Come back for a 15 month update. Maybe it'll be the golden shot.

I have created a page of links for my Microdiscectomy posts and other links I have found helpful. You can find it here.

PLEASE FOLLOW THE MEDICAL ADVICE OF YOUR DOCTOR. WE ARE NOT ALL THE SAME.

Scars - so much bigger on the inside

>> Wednesday, February 06, 2013

This weeks Gallery is Noses: There are 14 types of noses apparently!

My paternal Grandmother had a huge nose and my father inherited about half of it. I was a little luckier and got slightly less again. But hey, big is better right?!

As my father got more ill his nose was mostly red and then purple. It didn't look at all strange or odd. It totally fitted his rugged face and was just part of who he was.

After he died I went to see him laid out. The undertakers had taken it upon themselves to make his nose look normal coloured. They had done a grand job, it didn't look at all made up, you would never have known except it just wasn't dad. I looked and looked and just wanted to rub it off. I didn't of course, but I can still remember how odd it looked as clear as anything all these years later.

I have a scar on the top of my nose. I've struggled to find a photo that shows it, because I cover it in makeup or air brush it usually. An old running photo, no makeup and no airbrush and you still really have to zoom to see it. It probably just looks like a little sunburn mark perhaps to you or a scratch but I hate it. Nobody else probably notices it. But when I look in the mirror I see it first. I see it and I get an immediate and sickening reminder of how it got there. The day it happened.

Funny old thing, noses. My first thought was my fathers scarred and coloured nose and yet to me it was just perfect the way it was. My second thought was of my own scar that it much bigger on the inside of me than it ever is on the outside and I wish it gone.

The final thought is with Black Adder's Queenie:

Q: Just tell me one thing. Is her nose as pretty as mine?

E: Oh, no, no.. ma'm.

Q: Oh good, because otherwise I would have cut it off. And then you would have to marry someone without a nose and that wouldn't be very nice, would it?

E: No ma'm.

Q: Imagine the mess when she's got a cold! Yuck!

Winter Camp

>> Sunday, February 03, 2013

There was a large Guide and Ranger camp this weekend at our local Guiding camp site.

A few of my Rangers were there and a girl from my Jailbreak team.

I still think me camping would be a mistake for my back, especially in the cold weather, so I only went to visit for a few hours.

A few hours was enough, it was freezing. 2.5C when I left and dropping rapidly. Tea and cake was coming in a steady 'keep you warm' stream though.

I know I'm turning into a camping geek. This bad boy held my gaze for longer than was proper. There is enough chimney to have it lit in a bell tent and it can support 2 pans and a water boiler at the same time. Oh my, I want.

There was plenty of opportunity for the girls to learn outdoor skills.

These 3 made me laugh, in fairness they were lighting fires with flint but honestly, all hands in, hair in...it's a good job they were rubbish at it!

And when they finally got it lit and they pulled their hands out, their lovely polished nails made me smile too. I love Rangers, they dress beautifully, look gorgeous, have perfect nails and then have great fun getting stuck into fire lighting in 10 layers of clothes and no makeup.

I love this place, it really is chicken soup for my soul.

A 'getting to know you' weekend away

>> Friday, February 01, 2013

It's been a pretty hectic time just recently. I put the mini through it's first Guiding weekend paces. It failed admirably to fit it all in and I'm worried now about doing a big pack holiday with it.

Mum and I made 13 table pieces for the Burns night supper, which the Jailbreak girls waitressed at to start our weekend off.

This was my main view of the weekend...

...because the girls spent a lot of time planning like this.

They did also manage to write a team charter.

And finally make a decision on where they will be travelling to.

A Sticky Toffee Pudding courtesy of Aunt Bessie's went down rather well. And given that I decided to take the opportunity this weekend to do my QM qualification, anything that would help bring me in under budget was very much appreciated. The adviser came out to visit and inspect my kitchen hygiene standards.