Pictish Princess Pat

Here in the Southern Hemisphere, we have not danced under the Winter Solstice moon or even cavorted under the Maori New Year Matariki stars. No, we dash from house to postbox during the day and at night we observe the night sky through layers of glass. There is a Matariki festival next week that looks interesting. But whether it is interesting enough to venture forth into the chill is another thing entirely. The only good thing about the middle of Winter is the thought that Spring is not that far away. We are drooling over our upcoming holiday to the Islands of the Pacific. Barry did his usual thing and found interesting sites and attractions for us to enjoy. Yes, even a chocolate factory on Noumea. Can't wait. Yummy yummy yummy. Yes, I am allowed chocolate as long as it only has 10 % of sugar in it and luckily for me, I love the dark chocolate. Rich and luscious. Drooling again.

I was lying in bed this morning and wondering where the word 'picture' came from. Yes, I do know that I am weird. I got up and Googled it, as you do. And yes it is Latin and means painting. But then I thought of the Picts.... you know those ancient Celtic people of Scotland and Ireland. Do you think that they were called Picts because they like painting their bodies blue? Google to the rescue and yes, the name came about because of their love of painting their bodies. They also did amazing stone carvings and jewellery that exists to this day. So maybe it was a mixture of them being great artists and their penchant for blue paint that caused the Romans to name them Picts? One of their earliest leaders was Bridei Mac Beli about 554. (Bridei was son of Maelchon.) and was converted to Christianity by Saint Columbo. Okay, all quite interesting but just a little bit boring? But when you use a bit of lateral thinking about the names, you will see that Beli could be stretched into the surname Bell. And Bell is my grandmother's line. Hey maybe we are descended from a king of the Picts and if the modern practice of handing the crown down from father to son had been in play 1500 years ago ... well I could be a princess! A princess that enjoys drawing pictures. How amazing would that be? A Pictish princess. Oh okay, I am labouring the point a little bit. But as I lay in my nice warm bed the idea of being royalty tickled my fancy. Realistically I would not be chucking William, Harry et al out of Buck house because they belong to a different royal line but maybe I would be invited to tea with the Queen? Aah well it was a nice thought for a moment. Shucks I might even have been invited to the wedding of the year? No, that would have required me to buy an expensive outfit and my bank manager would have had a cadenza. Not ideal.

Talking of my proper place in society, a friend asked me one day to speak to her new daughter-in-law about priorities. This girl was quite artistic and the mother-in-law was worried that she would rather paint than clean her house. She even lamented that the girl used an electric steam mop instead of scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees as it should be done. Shoving my electric steam mop with my foot behind the door, I answered and asked her why she thought I was qualified to intervene. Do I look like I get on my hands and knees and scrub my kitchen floor? Has she seen my kitchen floor? Obviously not because she would not have been impressed. I was lucky that my mother-in-law was myopic (short-sighted) and quite frankly couldn't care less about how clean my floor was. I asked my friend if the world would fall off its axis if this young woman did use a steam mop and painted before she cleaned? After a moment of reflection, she said: "Mmmm maybe not." Yay, success for the cleaning challenged women of the world.... one small scrub at a time. Now on to greater things. Once upon a time, it was frowned on to have disposable nappies. Can you imagine our Prime Minister trying to be a Mom and a PM without the convenience of disposables? Go, Jacinta! And Clark. I always told my kids to think 'Will this matter in 100 years time?' If not, don't stress the small stuff. Will it really matter if your brother or sister has a piece of cake that is marginally larger than yours? No. In 100 years time no one will remember who got what size of cake.... or who sat next to the car window ... or got the bigger present at Christmas. What will stand the test of time is keeping communication open and being honest with each other. Do you remember that ditty our mothers and grandmothers would recite? Sticks and stones will break your bones but words will never harm you." Wrong. Verbal abuse is the hurt that never stops! Being told that someone hates you or that they can do without you in their lives is one of the most damaging conversations you can ever have with a loved one. So keep your words kind and loving. And give compliments. Truly. That is one of the best gifts you can give anyone.

My 65th birthday is coming up in November and my children have asked me what I want to do to celebrate. Firstly I will cut my hair and donate it to the Cancer Society to make into a wig. Secondly ... well no, there is no secondly. I have no idea what I want to do. All the things I really want are things you cannot buy with money or time. And what is so marvellous about turning 65? Okay, I am now legally retired and can get the government pension. Which is a whopping few dollars extra a week. Wooo hooo now I can buy that block of cheese that I have had my eye on all year. No, I am just being silly. Birthdays are just numbers and my greatest gift is my children and grandchildren. Stick a big bow on each of the grandkids heads and tell them I am allowed to kiss and cuddle them until I have had my fill. I will blow raspberries on their little cheeks and they can sit on my lap and throw their arms around my neck .... the perfect gift that never goes off and never gets old. And maybe a small block of really dark chocolate?

Keep warm folks and remember we are all connected to royalty somewhere in our genealogy ... you too might be a Celtic prince or princess.