Thoughts

Kalanchoe yellow and Mother Holle

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I love this photo I took of a yellow Kalanchoe. Because strangely it reminds me of an old fairytale I read as a child. The tale of Mother Holle, of the Brothers Grimm (story below). The moral of this tale being that hard work and a good attitude will be rewarded. Doesn’t always work out like that, but I tried to think it might be the case when I was young.

But the gold look of the flowers made me think…

Yellow Kalanchoe

(c) K Wicks

Here is the fairytale if you are unfamiliar with it.

Mother Holle by the Brothers Grimm

“There was once a widow who had two daughters—one of whom was pretty and industrious, while the other was ugly and idle. But she was much fonder of the ugly and idle one, because she was her own daughter; and the other, who was a step-daughter, was obliged to do all the work, and be the Cinderella of the house. Every day the poor girl had to sit by a well, in the highway, and spin and spin till her fingers bled.

Now it happened that one day the shuttle was marked with her blood, so she dipped it in the well, to wash the mark off; but it dropped out of her hand and fell to the bottom. She began to weep, and ran to her step-mother and told of the mishap. But she scolded her sharply, and was so merciless as to say, “Since you have let the shuttle fall in, you must fetch it out again.”

So the girl went back to the well, and did not know what to do; and in the sorrow of her heart she jumped into the well to get the shuttle. She lost her senses; and when she awoke and came to herself again, she was in a lovely meadow where the sun was shining and many thousands of flowers were growing. Along this meadow she went, and at last came to a baker’s oven full of bread, and the bread cried out, “Oh, take me out! take me out! or I shall burn; I have been baked a long time!” So she went up to it, and took out all the loaves one after another with the bread-shovel. After that she went on till she came to a tree covered with apples, which called out to her, “Oh, shake me! shake me! we apples are all ripe!” So she shook the tree till the apples fell like rain, and went on shaking till they were all down, and when she had gathered them into a heap, she went on her way.

At last she came to a little house, out of which an old woman peeped; but she had such large teeth that the girl was frightened, and was about to run away.

But the old woman called out to her, “What are you afraid of, dear child? Stay with me; if you will do all the work in the house properly, you shall be the better for it. Only you must take care to make my bed well, and to shake it thoroughly till the feathers fly—for then there is snow on the earth. I am Mother Holle.”

As the old woman spoke so kindly to her, the girl took courage and agreed to enter her service. She attended to everything to the satisfaction of her mistress, and always shook her bed so vigorously that the feathers flew about like snow-flakes. So she had a pleasant life with her; never an angry word; and boiled or roast meat every day.

She stayed some time with Mother Holle, and then she became sad. At first she did not know what was the matter with her, but found at length that it was homesickness; although she was many times better off here than at home, still she had a longing to be there. At last she said to the old woman, “I have a longing for home; and however well off I am down here, I cannot stay any longer; I must go up again to my own people.” Mother Holle said, “I am pleased that you long for your home again, and as you have served me so truly, I myself will take you up again.” Thereupon she took her by the hand, and led her to a large door. The door was opened, and just as the maiden was standing beneath the doorway, a heavy shower of golden rain fell, and all the gold remained sticking to her, so that she was completely covered with it.

“You shall have that because you are so industrious,” said Mother Holle; and at the same time she gave her back the shuttle which she had let fall into the well. Thereupon the door closed, and the maiden found herself up above upon the earth, not far from her mother’s house.

And as she went into the yard the cock cried: “Cock-a-doodle-doo! Your golden girl’s come back to you!”

So she went in to her mother, and as she arrived thus covered with gold, she was well received, both by her and her sister.

The girl told all that had happened to her; and as soon as the mother heard how she had come by so much wealth, she was very anxious to obtain the same good luck for the ugly and lazy daughter. She had to seat herself by the well and spin; and in order that her shuttle might be stained with blood, she stuck her hand into a thorn-bush and pricked her finger. Then she threw her shuttle into the well, and jumped in after it.

She came, like the other, to the beautiful meadow and walked along the very same path. When she got to the oven the bread again cried, “Oh, take me out! take me out! or I shall burn; I have been baked a long time!” But the lazy thing answered, “As if I had any wish to make myself dirty!” and on she went. Soon she came to the apple-tree, which cried, “Oh, shake me! shake me! we apples are all ripe!” But she answered, “I like that! one of you might fall on my head,” and so went on.

When she came to Mother Holle’s house she was not afraid, for she had already heard of her big teeth, and she hired herself to her immediately.

The first day she forced herself to work diligently, and obeyed Mother Holle when she told her to do anything, for she was thinking of all the gold that she would give her. But on the second day she began to be lazy, and on the third day still more so, and then she would not get up in the morning at all. Neither did she make Mother Holle’s bed as she ought, and did not shake it so as to make the feathers fly up. Mother Holle was soon tired of this, and gave her notice to leave. The lazy girl was willing enough to go, and thought that now the golden rain would come. Mother Holle led her, too, to the great door; but while she was standing beneath it, instead of the gold a big kettleful of pitch was emptied over her. “That is the reward of your service,” said Mother Holle, and shut the door.

So the lazy girl went home; but she was quite covered with pitch, and the cock by the well-side, as soon as he saw her, cried: “Cock-a-doodle-doo! Your pitchy girl’s come back to you.” But the pitch stuck fast to her, and could not be got off as long as she lived.”

The wisdom of Grandpa…

~ MKW Publishing ~ 4 Comments

My grandpa has constantly given me guidance and advice throughout my life, mainly for work and finances, about work ethic and responsibility. Here are a couple of the gems that have stuck with me.

“When I used to work for a pharmaceuticals sales company as a manager, we had this one chap who wasn’t hitting any of his targets. He was on basic pay but so far no commissions had come in. A few months went by and each time a review occurred he would be very verbal about how it was hard and he was trying. So, the next day someone from the department followed him. To the park. Where he took off his shoes and socks, sat down and pulled a book and some sandwiches from his bag. He then proceeded to stay in the park all day. And the next day, and for the rest of the week, unaware that he was being monitored. The next week he was let go, and told why”.

I couldn’t believe someone would be so blatant, my grandpa just laughed (he has a very wise knowing laugh), and said I would encounter much worse than that along the way.

Another story he had was of a person knocking on doors ‘looking for work’ sharpening knives. Needless to say, maybe my grandpa didn’t want someone in the house with access to all the knives – but offered the person other work. He had some gardening work available, just digging, but work nonetheless. The man said no thanks. It obviously left a sour taste with grandpa for him to remember and retell the story as an example of a poor work ethic. If you need money, work is work.

He is from a different time and attitude but most of his lessons have helped. Even just to help me understand the climate and age he grew up in and came from, where the future did seem brighter, careers longer and opportunities were more plentiful.

Oh how times have changed…

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(c) K Wicks

 

 

Hyperphantasia, A Down Side…

~ MKW Publishing ~ 6 Comments

“Hyperphantasia is the ability for an individual to create highly graphic images in his or her mind’s eye”

I didn’t know I was hyperphantasic until near the end of my thirties, and am still happy to not be as this is a self-diagnosis, but it seems the most fitting description so far of what goes on in my mind.

I thought everyone was afflicted like me. That they had constant images in mind, memories coming back out of nowhere, replays of movies watched, or a rerun of conversations had. And similarly running through future events and conversations that were yet to happen, creating anxieties of possible outcomes of things that would come.

It wasn’t until I explained these thoughts to my husband that we started to notice a difference in thought process way beyond being a man and a woman. And after we discovered he is aphantasic, it made me realise that I might not be thinking like everyone else. In fact, it made me think no one is thinking the same at all.

It explained a lot of things I had been looking for an answer to. I spent a lot of time in my own company as a child, despite having siblings, I have always been quite able to entertain myself having many hobbies and keeping my brain as occupied as I can. I was constantly thinking, scheming, planning and analysing. This hasn’t changed. Phobias it seems though were very set too, being able to hyper visualise has made my fears never go away. Now I know why, I’m not so hard on myself, believing it’s not actually my fault. But for years I couldn’t work out why certain images wouldn’t go away, why did things stay with me for so long? Movies, articles, experiences, books, any input could come back at any time out of the blue. I have learned to control them mostly now, but it’s been hard work.

The one that stuck and commandeered my childhood was Jaws. I know I am very much not alone with that one, but it made me wonder if this is part of the reason and differences between us that makes some people have phobias and others not. Some people like horror and are scared by it, others not. And potentially, allow some people to identify better with others, or be more susceptible to fear. I suspect this may be why some people are prime subjects for being hypnotized, if someone can picture what you are saying, does that help?

But my nemesis was Jaws. Watched around 8 or 9 years old I think, it stayed with me. It imprinted in my brain and resurfaced often. My grandparents had a swimming pool and used to take us on holiday, to where there would always be a pool. I couldn’t escape it, but it was so bad that for the first year after watching, I refused to have a bath and would only use the crappy push on shower head. My brain took it further you see, it created a mini jaws that could come up the plughole, and then turn into a big shark. It took me about a year to get a grip on that. I just had to suck it up and deal with it. Then it became a weird family joke that I was terrified of sharks, and I just accepted it as that. A weird thing that didn’t bother most people. I must be the odd one out.

I still have it. When living in Spain for a couple of years, I had a pool with the rented property as it was part of the dream. But within two days of trying to enjoy a swim, it came back. I couldn’t help visualizing a shark, in the water, at the bottom in the dark where I couldn’t quite see. I was in my late thirties by this point. I felt like an idiot. But it was the same with swimming pools back then, I would focus on the filter, thinking it could come through there. And would quicken my pace, swimming wasn’t fun anymore after becoming an extended anxiety attack each time. Although, on the plus side, I did win a bronze medal for backstroke in the cadet championships because I was thinking of sharks. But for having a healthy relationship with water it did nothing.

By now understanding that my brain can latch onto anything it likes and I can’t control what stays and what goes, I am being more careful about what I read and watch. Hyperphantasia has led me to understand a bit more about why I am different from others, and has made me realise that each person is more unique that I had given them credit for.

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(c) K Wicks

For more on hyperphantasia and aphantasia from a personal perspective then you can read more in my book, Meeting in the Middle of Nowhere.

It was winter…

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I used to think we on this island had initiative and common sense until a number of years ago a very simple event highlighted to me this was not the case. Until this time I was of the belief we would pull together and help each other, sort things out and get on.

But to my surprise it wasn’t like that at all and I felt like I had either been deceived about the British people and where I was from, or something had been lost.

The very simple event was snow. At the time I lived down a sloping road off a hill, meaning when it got very icy and snowed a fair bit, it would be impossible to use unless it was gritted or removed by hand. As a side road it didn’t qualify for gritting, this I understood. The road was completely covered and no cars could make it in or out without extreme danger of sliding and crashing.

So, in my naivety I presumed ‘people’ would get shovels out and remove the snow to make the road usable again. But no, something else happened. A lot of complaining, about how the council should be clearing the road, how it was the governments fault we didn’t have gritters or someone else to do the job for us. And for days the road was effectively blocked. Until my household actually needed to go out, so rather than moaning about how we couldn’t get out, we got shovels and got ourselves out. And what was really a slap in the face, was as soon as we did it, others did it. And within half an hour the road was clear enough to use… so just waiting for someone else to take the lead, it was disappointing.

The moral of that for me was don’t sit around moaning that someone else hasn’t done something or thinking a problem will fix itself. And it became starkly obvious people will just sit around and wait to be told what to do, or will just wait for someone else to do it for them. There is a time to be patient and there is a time for action, you just need to know the difference and when each is appropriate.

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(c) K Wicks

 

 

Who were we?

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How could we have known.

We found ourselves in the middle of the biggest disaster of living memory. But within that disaster a plot began to unfold. We were being used as weapons against each other during what initially appeared to be a terrible new illness. There was a silent invisible enemy, one you could not quantify or calculate, but one they told you was there. The government told you, the media told you, even the doctors told you. Why would they all lie you asked yourself?

For years the people had wanted looking after. For years they have begged the government for more rules, more surveillance, more punishment, more control. In times of uncertainty they looked to them for safety, guidance and support. Not each other. Work and life moved people further away from each other, and communities split apart and fell. No-one was looking out for each other anymore. Every man for himself was the new way. This was not an accident.

We might wonder why the ‘people’ look to the government for answers, assistance and to hold their hand, because that is the way they wanted it to be. But they needed everyone on board, so they took away all you have worked hard for or wanted to have. They made us sit while our futures slipped away, made us watch it slowly crumble. They knew we would comply, they planted enough fear to make it so. But what could we do, they had politicians, the police, the army and all the medical personnel on their side being fed from the same trough.

Who were we?

Enlight65

Unexplained#1…

~ MKW Publishing ~ 1 Comment

Sometimes you see things that can’t always be explained by your rational mind, but that doesn’t mean it has to have an outrageous or far fetched origin. I’m a skeptic. I read what people have seen, and have watched the programs about abductions and experiments. I take an interest in the idea that there may be something other than ourselves here, I’m just not sure that something is from somewhere else. There are dark, remote and barren regions on what we call Earth, and in the vast depths of the ocean we have not yet begun to explore or understand.

I have seen a few strange lights in the night sky, that move far quicker than I would expect for an airplane, or they don’t move for a time. Not alien, just out of place and unidentified to my eye. Noticeable, but not explainable to my own mind. It’s hard to come to a conclusion based on just hearsay and other peoples experiences and when you can’t clearly see what you are seeing.

But then I accidentally photographed something, a first hand picture I took myself back in 2011. With not a notice of the actual content at first, I did not see this in the sky at the time. I wanted to take a picture of a colourful hedge in my garden, two tones in fact, green leaves with dark red leaves behind them, with the bright blue sky for contrast. Not a great pic, but not a bad one for its purpose. I took two photos a few seconds apart.

Photograph 1

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Photograph 2

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It took me about a week to get round to uploading and working out if I could make a nice sky edit from these. But on closer inspection, realised that in pic 1, there is a small flat line, an object that looks metallic but without wings. I have spent much time looking up and have seen glimpses of many planes, they are extremely noticeable in the day time sky, lets be honest, and much easier to zoom in on. So, the only reason I gave this more attention than I usually would is that I didn’t see this when taking a picture and it has disappeared within a second or two. By pic 2, the object is gone completely and in the top left hand corner there are two crows messing around, highlighting to me how different birds look to this – and the birds were quite a distance away and appear as two tiny black dots almost. I do photography birds of prey like kites and kestrels so am quite used to seeing nature flying around.

Possibly UFO 2

Most ordinary planes I have seen take some amount to time to make their journey across the sky, and technically I didn’t even see it, not with my own eyes anyway. So I have to put this as a UFO, not an alien craft from another world, I couldn’t possibly presume that. But a flying craft of unknown origin to me. In fact there may be many explanations of what it might have been, but I just haven’t settled on one yet…

 

(c) K L Wicks

 

 

Different Futures…

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Another excerpt from my now published Meeting in the Middle of Nowhere…

Before we knew of Aphanstasia we decided to move to Spain. It was a leap of faith, we hadn’t been married long and tried to think of the best way to use our resources to have a good life. We discussed everything and we moved. It was hard and there was a lot to organise and sort out, but because he functioned great in the moment, it seemed a breeze really.

Only a small hiccup of a drunk taxi driver at the last hurdle trying to get to the airport to leave. But another one saved the day and we got there. The drama that unfolded when we were there though couldn’t have been anticipated and was caused mainly by a long list of shoddy agents and bad neighbours. We didn’t really have a chance to settle down and find our feet to plan anything. Instead going from one idea to another and having to change it every other week because of what we had found out, or how we had been treated. It was extremely frustrating. And it was in these frustrating times that we stumbled across this major difference in our thought process. He wasn’t planning ahead at all, he had no concept of our future in Spain and never had. That kind of explained why he always seemed to have objections to things, he speaks his mind at the time, there’s no saving it for later. It can make him seem quite outspoken, but it really isn’t on purpose I now know.

I have to be honest though, when I realised I was on my own with planning our future, it sealed the deal for me. I was already struggling and had thought I wanted to come home, I just didn’t want to ruin it for him. But deep down I must have known we weren’t going to be staying in Spain. I was grossly under prepared going there anyway (I can’t even speak the language), and knew this was the right thing to do.

I couldn’t do it for us both not on home soil. I had spent over thirty years working out how to function in this society, it sounds awful to say, but I actually felt too old to go through it all again. I needed the support of familiarity – not people, or friends as they are thin on the ground, but where I recognised. I realised that was my reference point, my safety zone. I felt like a duck out of water and wanted to correct it as soon as possible. I don’t often live with my mistakes once I have acknowledged them.

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(c) K Wicks (Photography taken in Spain)

 

Nobody likes a mouldy turnover…

~ MKW Publishing ~ 2 Comments

This incident happened months ago now and I very briefly mentioned it in my piece the day after it happened in ‘Death of the High Street‘. I have had a number of disappointing experiences in the local shops, but this is the one that sealed the deal for me. I guess I had decided to overlook the lack of professionalism, customer service and standards, as this is now the norm. But I draw the line at being served mouldy food. That’s where they made it feel personal and made me think ‘why should I give you my money?’.

So, the context for this is as follows. I went to the local bakery to purchase a cherry turnover, I have had them a few times before and other than a lack of adequate filling, I had no complaints. However, on this occasion, the shop assistant went to the tray slightly to my right and out of eye line and selected my turnover, personally put it in a paper bag and took my money. It was not until about two hours later that I went to eat my pastry treat, I took it out of the bag and put it on the plate, instantly seeing there was an issue. I mean, who would be happy with seeing that green powdery tinge on your apparently freshly baked produce…

Norths Bakery - Moldy Turnover #1 (10.09.19)

So, I took some pictures and found the contact details online and immediately contacted the owner of the bakery. I’ve worked in two bakeries in my time and have to say have never seen mould that far gone on ‘fresh’ food. To me there are many points of failure to have reached that stage. How did it get so moudly so quickly? From the storage area onto the shelf without being noticed? How did it make it from the shelf into the bag of a customer without being noticed? Either way I wasn’t prepared to eat there again. I did get a seemingly sincere apologetic email back from the owner, telling me that apparently they were baked the day before with a 4 day best before, but held their hands up and said this does not seem to be the case. Although offered a voucher for £10 at the bakery, I didn’t take it or reply. I was just glad they acknowledged the very serious issue and how someone along the line isn’t doing their job properly. Whether they actually care or notice they have lost a local customer for life I don’t know. There is so much passing trade these days, people can afford to lose a few it seems.

On the positive side, it as made me brave enough to attempt to cook my own as I no longer trust the standards of people trying to make money from me. And I really like turnovers. I have made apple and apple and raspberry so far, and have to say they taste better than any shop bought ones! (although still using shop bought pasty as puff pastry is still a bit beyond my capabilities and time available for baking).

Lush turnover 2

(c) K Wicks

Where did courtesy go?

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I see a lot of talk and arguments about the state of society and where it is all going and I rarely put my opinions forward on these as I would rather get on and change them than just talk about them. But it all has to start somewhere. One of the current points of interest to me is libraries, the fight to keep them open mostly and what role they will continue to play.

I have to admit I don’t think I have even been into a public library for over 20 years since I left home and the internet happened, no need. But before this and during my teenage years, the library was my only escape and outside interaction from my home life. I suffered from severe agoraphobia and depression as a teenager and didn’t socialise at all outside of my family. I did not attend school and stayed in all the time, but I loved reading. So the need for books gave me an incentive to go out and the library gave me a book haven to go three to four times a week to collect as many as I could – I think the limit was five or six. I did also use my pocket money to occasionally visit Waterstones and buy the Point Horror books that the library didn’t stock. I also used to use their photo copier, I liked to copy my drawings before I put detail on them back then, so made use of a number of their facilities. It was a lifeline at a really dark and hard time in my life.

But now, we all mostly have internet and printers, between online, secondhand books shops and charity shops my need for library books has vanished as a reader. I am torn over this argument between people who say keep them and others who say they should go. There is still a need, but not what it was, we need to change them. I’m trying to give thought to a good option, but I know there isn’t a simple quick solution. We do have to admit though, the use of them in the last 20 years has dropped off or changed from what they once were – public access to reading materials. Most households or phones now have the internet but the need for community has never been greater and I wonder if the libraries could be adapted to help with that. Of course, if the overall consensus is to get rid of communities and slowly break apart what once was – then it won’t work.

When I was growing up, I honestly didn’t know you were given money for just being alive and out of work by the government, or things for free just because you couldn’t afford them. I didn’t even know about Child Benefit until I was into double figures – and frankly I was stunned (I have never been popular as an adult with my opinions of benefits and the shocking way they are distributed). It hadn’t occurred to me at all that you get given money – just because you have children, I thought you had to work whatever – and if you didn’t, family and friends had to help you or you died. I realise I probably took this from my incessant reading of the Victorian era, and just never thought to clarify it with anyone in modern times, instead just trying to be of the mentality that I have to work to live. Once I understood what you can claim though, again I was shocked.

My logic saw a problem developing – if you just give lots of people money for nothing (just because they are alive), and promise them more, and a house, and schooling and healthcare – and you don’t have to go to work, in fact, you will be worse of if you do. Why would you? I have noticed some people dispute this claim, that it is hard on benefits and you don’t have that much – and for some this is the case. But for those who make it a career, I say bullshit to that. When I was on benefits for a bit when i left home with no family, it became a lifestyle, luckily one I didn’t want. The people you mix with, the mentality you get. I have lived alongside it and witnessed it first hand, personally choosing not to be like that. Someone once close to me used to boast a bit about how they were almost getting £20k in benefits and housing at one point – thanks to their children! Then being signed off on the sick because of stress, falling into the mentality of “I just need some time to work out what to do with my life”! Yes, at the taxpayers expense… at my expense. Not the type of thinking I want to be around.

I was on £14k at the time and working really hard to have a life and try and start a career and contribute to society – not just keep taking out. Because it really isn’t a never ending pot of money and you can only mismanage things for so long before you end up with nothing – which is what I saw my mother do (weirdly of all the people I would have expected to claim she didn’t, she chose to be a criminal instead – and that’s a different story). But at the point she had her medical accident, she had racked up £22k of debt for her husband, because she wanted more than she could afford. And wasn’t willing to wait or work hard for it. That is a thought process I noticed a lot and once credit cards really rolled out for everyone and quick fix loans – I could see where it was all going. I really do believe people should be helped who really need it and we are surrounded by terrible injustices – but so far I am seeing a lot of scamming and scheming in this country and we currently appear to run on greed. I thought we were in a different world, the old world probably, one of trust on a handshake, help each other and maybe just a bit of old school rules. Not so, and I’m not so sure we ever did.

We now have an elaborate system of scamming from top to bottom in this country. Example – A ‘homeless’ person gets dropped off by a range rover, then begs for eight hours, then gets picked up. Not to say all those people are doing it off their own back and possibly this is organised on a bigger level, but it is obviously now a lucrative job and we are allowing beggars to be a commodity. I can’t blame the people for using the system that is here – I just hate the system. Homeless isn’t just a simple word anymore where someone needs a bed and a job – there are many social issues involved and at work. In my view the whole system needs an overhaul, it is unsustainable and causing more problems we may not be able to ‘fix’ later. Like people, generations of people are being ruined for no good reason, just profit. How do you fix that?

We could also look at the infrastructure – it really does seem that no one wants this country to work – because we can’t get anywhere in any good time. Time is something you cannot buy more of and you cannot get back, I am astounded we do not fight for it. Start with the roads and trains. Streamline the traffic, get everyone to where they are going, things move quicker and we can get on. The levels of frustration being experienced by people just trying to live is excruciating to watch – maybe this is why anxiety levels are so high?

And here is my really unpopular idea which has been put forward already – bring in compulsory sight tests for over 70’s and really look at part of the issue. Older people are the ones who mostly have all the money in this country, therefore they can afford these nice cars that are now like spaceships but go no faster than a horse and cart. But they have no need to get anywhere (or they drive to that effect), the speed limit signs and pretty much ignored and people won’t drive over 40 mph. There are too many people from 17 to 90 driving around with such different purpose. I feel like we are in a twilight zone episode every time we go out – which is getting less and less. I get my shopping delivered now and can’t face the ridiculous debacle that is just popping into town now – because no-one seems aware – of anything. And that frustration I mentioned, gets to me and it ruins my day. I try to be thoughtful when in the company of others, be aware that other people have lives and needs and try to be polite with it. But I have not been afforded that courtesy back of late, from any quarter of society. So I withdraw as much as I can, and am slightly ashamed at how it has come to this, which I am part of.

I just keep thinking there must be a better way…

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(c) K Wicks photographer – Capels Viaduct, Stroud, Gloucestershire