Embroidered heartbeats

Prince Philip of Greece and Denmark died last week. He was gorgeous as a young man and I am sure the young women of the world would have been on him like ham on rye. Okay. Sorry, inappropriate to talk that way about the dead. But there he was a handsome young man who married a princess who became a queen. His mother was profoundly deaf and spent much of her life in a sanatorium because of her schizophrenia. During WW11 she was living back in Greece and harboured Jewish refugees to save them from persecution. This strong-willed woman with plenty of challenges must have had some impact on her son's life because he never faltered in his support of the Queen. Philip did do a lot of good for the ecology of the world. He worked really hard at life and trying to do transforming things for the world with not much reward. Okay, living in a castle surrounded by servants sounds like a dream to some of us, but all that media coverage. Every faux pas noted for posterity. Yuk. Long before Greta Thunberg, he was active in changing climate issues. Yes, he did have a very sharp tongue and tact was not his strong point, but really, what a mensch? I asked the grandchildren how many heartbeats Philip had during his lifetime. They calculated it as 3 billion. If you live to 70, you would have 2,4 billion heartbeats. Some people obviously have less and others a lot more. I asked the children how they planned to invest their 2 billion heartbeats? I personally will miss the Duke and his cheeky grins and amazing insight into life in the palace.

If heartbeats were money, how would you invest it? I noticed on Who wants to be a Millionaire that if the people win $1,000 and are asked what they plan to do with the money. It is usually to have a party with their friends. Or go out to dinner with mates. The more money people win, the greater the goals. One million and they are saying it would change their lives forever. $250,000 and they are bubbling with ideas and grandiose schemes. I have yet to hear of a person who wins the minimum of $1,000 saying 'I will save this for a rainy day.' or 'This will start the fund for a house.' Nope. They want instant gratification. The less we have, the more we want to spend it. If I have an extra few dollars at the end of the week, I find my palm itching to go shopping for junk. It takes real strength of character to push down that urge. How am I going to invest my heartbeats, and how have I invested the ones that are already spent and gone? Plant a tree? Or clean up a waterway? Instead of spending the extra cash in my account, perhaps I should donate it to a worthy cause. No, not Greenpeace. They rub me up the wrong way. Ooops sorry, just me and my big mouth again. They do amazing things for the world. My interests are skewed towards what will affect me and my family. I read this week that although coastal erosion is threatening low-lying islands around the world, those surrounded by coral reefs are actually increasing in landmass. The Marshall islands, Kiritbati and the Maldives have grown by 8% over the past 60 years. Apparently, the coral reef degrades and the soil formed by the wave action washes up on the islands and they get bigger. Maybe I should donate to funds that form reefs around islands? I can't imagine that working for New Zealand. We would need a massive reef to make much difference. But around some of the more endangered islands? It could work. My $10 will be better spent there than at the local cafe buying a hot chocolate and a waffle. When I am online, I often come across amazing new innovative products. Who knew that I would need a specially shaped pillow? All those years as a child with those lumpy feather filled, pricked in the face by a quill, slightly smelly pillows could have been replaced by a perfectly divine pillow for the minimal cost of $99.99 plus handling and postage? There are the cleaning products that will change our lives. What? No they won't. I can barely get up the energy to fill and empty the dishwasher, who thinks I need a scientifically created cream that cuts through grease and baked in dirt. I thought that was what Bicarbonate of soda and vinegar was good for? There are shoes that will make you feel like you are floating on air. Mmmm I think those are made in Chinese child labour factories. Or am I confusing them with something else? I do most of my shoe shopping at second-hand clothing stores. I have no compunction about wearing a dead man's (woman's) shoes if they are marked down from $200 a pair to less than $10. And I don't really care if they are bright red or blue or even black. Much as I admire the online community for trying to make money from their ideas, most of them don't interest me at all. And the wrinkle cream? My rich cousin, yes, I do have one of those, once had a terrible rash on her arms. She went to doctors and specialists and dermatologists and they prescribed her lotions and potions that cost more than gold. One day her maid saw her scratching and said, 'Madam, perhaps you should try this? I use it all the time and it works wonders.' Rich cousin thought why not? And two weeks later was itch and scratch-free with an over-the-counter cream that cost less than a minute of the doctor's time. Wrinkle cream? My Gran had the most amazing skin and she used Sunlight soap and Oil of Olay all her life. Wrinkles I have a few, but then again too few to mention. My daughter is adapting a studio flat at our house into two different zones. Bedroom and lounge. She went to buy a bookcase that would act as a wall. You can buy the custom made one for thousands of dollars or the one for a few hundred dollars that looks just as nice but needs some assembly. Cash savvy as she is, she opted for the cheaper one. And it looks great. Why is it that we look at adverts for products and get seduced into buying their stuff? Yes, even me. I bought into the pedometer trend when I was told I had to walk 10,000 steps a day. By a doctor no less. Now I hear that the 10,000 steps was invented by the pedometer developer as an advertising gimmick and we don't need to walk that far. A little bit goes a long way. My Dad and husband jogged 12 km most mornings for much of their lives and they both died before their spouses who, lets be truthful here, are or were couch potatoes. Well, not always. My Mom loved playing tennis as a teenager and I was a gym bunny for a good few years. During those gym years, my husband invited me to go jogging with him. I had all the gear and equipment ... aka shoes and shorts. And off we went one cool Autumn morning just as the sun was rising. About 2 km down the road he was happily chatting about plans and ideas as he did with my Dad when they were jogging companions when suddenly I started seeing bright floating spots in front of my eyes. He was oblivious and did not notice my new visual companions. The spots sucked all the light into themselves and soon the darkness crept in from the side. Until the dots vanished and I found myself lying on the footpath in a very unladylike way. Barry carried on jogging, not even noticing that I was no longer next to him. When I say, found myself, I mean I had no clue what I looked like, ladylike or not, because I was out cold. Yes, Barry did finally realize that I was not on the road and came back looking for me. First and last time he invited me along. I was in such agony for the rest of the day ... head pounding, heart-thumping, cramps and pains throughout my body. I have tried walking and ended up sitting on the side of the road with my head in my hands. Climbing mountains, ditto. I played squash for a while until another friend trounced me at a game and I knew that I was out played and out gunned. What am I doing for exercise now? I have an elastic band tied to the corner of the dining room table and I use it to stretch my legs. Sounds exciting doesn't it? You might wonder about my husband and Dad's diets. Did they contribute to their early demise. Nope. Barry loved nothing more than a piece of cauliflower to snack on and never drank a lick of liquor.

A man recently asked me to decipher a crystal chalice for him that had been carved with symbols. The chalice was made in 1816 and was very precious to this man. It turned out to be a simple thing to do. The symbols were masonic. Then he hauled out the family silverware and again I was able to help him find who they belonged to on his family tree. The genealogy gods must have been smiling at my assistance for this gentleman because the next day I received my own little family history miracle. A long forgotten letter from my Dad's cousin Eunice. Long dead now, both of them. The letter was in the rubbish bin ready to be thrown out when it caught my eye. Yay. In it, she mentioned a farming family where two maiden sisters embroidered a cloth. Okay, many of you have embroidered cloths in the family chest. But for me it meant something special. I was able to find a picture online of the embroidery and the inspiration (a Roman mosaic uncovered near their village). Selina or Sally and Betsy were spinster sisters and obviously very talented artistically. This brought to mind a memory of my great aunt giving me a handkerchief embroidered by Selina and Betsy in 1864. Okay, my great aunt had Alzheimer's and the next day demanded I return the 'stolen' handkerchief, but I had owned that piece of cloth for a few hours and had been amazed at the delicate stitchery. No, I was not alive in 1864, my Great aunt gave it to me in 1964 or thereabouts. 100 years after its creation. All through my life I have craved information and connection with my ancestors and here it was. I did not get teary-eyed, but it was a close call there for a minute. I found the family home in Crondall up for sale. Built around the time of Henry V111 (1500's) and added on in Queen Anne's time (1670's) it is gorgeous. Oh now wouldn't that be something, to be able to buy that old pile of bricks. No? Okay, I will be content with my online photos of embroidery and Roman mosaic tiles and count the many blessings I have in my life. The billions of heartbeats that have echoed down the ages in the lives of my ancestors that have created me. The ability to peep into their lives through the magic of the internet all while sitting at my dining room table with an elastic band tied to my leg.