There's something about cycling down a bike lane with a 5 year old that makes you glad to be alive. Until she starts whining about her legs hurting, or says 'I know!' with such disdain when you warn her of an upcoming crossing, or nearly gets crushed by a car at a tricky junction. Then it's more jarring. I was happy about it today though - we went to school together on our bikes; her little legs whizzing round, the sun on our backs and the wind in our hair. After a couple of hours' work with a second child in the background, home because of a teacher training day, I decided to make the most of the good weather and we got on our bikes to go to the market. Not the Wednesday around the corner one, because it was Tuesday. The Tuesday one is a bit of a longer ride, but not far enough to get too much moaning out of the ten year old. We wheeled our bikes through the market, picking up some lobelia for the front door flower box; soap that had been forgotten during Marek'
I was holding a slumbering baby in my arms, looking out of our bedroom window at the snowy scene, when the car pulled up. I didn't think anything of it at first - we often get people parking outside our house - but when the two men got out, I started to take notice. There was something odd about the way they were walking; with purpose but slowly. They were both dressed in dark clothes and looked determined, as if they were actors in a film. The first guy looked back at the second and pointed towards our house. The second walked towards me, through the entrance to our front garden and towards our garage door. I started. What was he doing coming in through our garden? Suddenly I noticed a thumping in my chest and an urge to run. I went through to the bathroom where Marek was showering. 'There's a man trying to get in our garage!' I told him. He turned off the shower and looked at me 'what?' 'There's a man in our front garden' I said. 'It looks
We called our burnout project Madame Papillon because of the transformational potential of burnout. The idea that when you are stuck in your crysalis in your burned out state, you cannot imagine the beauty of being a butterfly because you have always been a caterpillar but that actually having that time away from everything else, and turning inwards allows wonderful things to happen and only when you're ready can you reach your full potential. That thing of butterflies needing to break out of the cocoon to have the strength in their wings that they need to fly can be echoed in the personal development process that is necessary. I used to love singing. All my life I've been in bands and choirs and it was only in recent years that I stopped. Thanks to a contact made through Madame Papillon, I discovered a local community of musicians and other performers and started singing in a choir again. The choir led to a cabaret, which as well as featuring my choir and allowing me to rememb
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