Tag Archives: #newblog

Saddle up…it’s rodeo time!

During my recent visit to Austin, Tx with my Boy Child for the Motogp weekend at COTA, we traded one kind of horsepower for another on the Friday evening.

The pro rodeo event was in town!

Before I go any further, if you are averse to such events, please stop reading and I’ll see you next week for a different blog. It is 100% not my intention to offend anyone’s sensibilities with this particular blog.

I will also add right at the start here that all living breathing creatures including humans left the arena unharmed.

Ok, still with me?

Rodeo remains a contentious event across the USA with many states restricting events or banning them entirely. (It’s banned in the UK and in many European countries) Professional rodeo events are strictly governed and sanctioned these days primarily by the Professional Rodeo Cowboy Association (PRCA) and the Women’s Professional Rodeo Association (WPRA).

In Texas, rodeo is the official state sport with Rodeo Austin being one of the top five pro rodeos in the USA. Rodeo Austin is a non-profit organisation that been fundraising for the children of Texas since 1938. To date Rodeo Austin has awarded $9.7M in scholarships with 2525 recipients benefiting from this as they work to cultivate agricultural education. This was all positive news to me! Naively, I thought it was simply a two-week event for largely entertainment purposes.

Rodeo Austin is held at the Travis County Expo Center and to be honest, as we approached the site in our Uber, I really wasn’t sure what to expect.

Rodeo Austin is a family event. Outside the Luedecke Arena was a sprawling fairground complete with the obligatory Ferris wheel. It’s the first time I’ve seen a carousel where one of the options was a rooster than a traditional carousel pony.

As we were early for the actual rodeo show, we wandered round checking out the various food trucks until we found ourselves outside a large open barn with a sign saying, “Milking Parlor”. Curious, we wander in and came face to face with a Longhorn bull in a pen!

In the middle of the building, countless cows were being prepared for their appearance in the show ring. Never in my life did I imagine that I would see cows getting a shampoo and blow dry!

The rodeo event itself began at 7pm in the arena. Having had our hands stamped on entry with a purple ink cactus stamp, we took our seats in the bleachers ready to experience our first taste of rodeo.

How many of you have watched Yellowstone and had your heart stolen just a little bit by the inept wrangler and rodeo rider, Jimmy Hurdstrom? I know I have and Jimmy was on my mind as we settled down to watch the show.

There were nine events lined up for the two-hour programme. After a patriotic start, the first of these events was the bareback riding, where the cowboys have to last at least 8 seconds on the back of a bucking horse while only holding on with one hand. You learn very quickly that 8 seconds is a long time!

Bareback Riding at Rodeo Austin 270326

The most dangerous event of the night is reportedly the steer wrestling.  This is where the cowboy comes in on horseback and wrestles the cow to the ground by grabbing it by the horns. I’ll be honest, I found this a tough watch.

Steer wrestling at Rodeo Austin 270326

So, how do kids aspiring to be cowboys start out? With Mutton Bustin’! A group of kids ranging in age from 5-8 years old lined up next for their 8 seconds of fame when they got to burst out of the chute riding a sheep bareback. This really was a firm crowd favourite and just too cute to watch. It was great to see the winner being awarded the treasured rodeo prize of a belt buckle, same as the adults. Not sure anyone managed the full 8 seconds to be fair.

Mutton Bustin at Rodeo Austin 270326

Probably my favourite event of the evening was the ladies only event – Barrel Racing. For those who don’t know, barrel racing involves entering the arena on horseback at full speed then sprinting in a cloverleaf pattern around three barrels. Fastest lady wins and there’s time penalties if a barrel is knocked over. The speed of this event is a sight to behold!

Barrel Racing at Rodeo Austin 270326

The last rodeo event of the night was Bull Riding. Fortunately, none of the bulls involved horns as impressive as the Longhorn we’d see earlier! These bulls are huge animals! Why anyone in their right mind would want to attempt to ride one is beyond me. Kudos to the cowboys who do, especially to those who lasted more than 8 seconds.

Bull Riding at Rodeo Austin 270326

The evening was brought to a thunderous close when the horse that had appeared earlier stampeded rounded the arena to take their lap of honour.

Rodeo Austin stampede 270326

Definitely a cultural experience that created memories to last a lifetime.

April is National Poetry Month….

Did you know that April is National Poetry month?

National Poetry Month is celebrating its 30th anniversary this year.

This annual celebration of poetry originated in the USA in 1996 as a way to increase awareness and appreciation of poetry. Two years later the celebrations spread to Canada and its popularity continues to grow. (The UK celebrates Poetry Day in October so we’ve still to get on board with this celebration.)

Something many of you might not realise is that I was published as a poet several years before I made my debut as an author. Poetry has always been close to my heart.

English class was along time ago but three poems from those high school days have stuck with me over the years: –

The Coming of the Wee Malkies by Stephen Mulrine

In The Snack Bar by Edwin Morgan

An Irish Airman Foresees His Death by WB Yeats

(Feel free to Google them once you’ve finished reading this.)

When my son was little, he attended a speech and drama group through his nursery class where he had to learn various poems. Memories of two of those continue to make me smile: –

Thank You, Dad, For Everything by Doug MacLeod

Daddy Fell into The Pond by Alfred Noyes

Over the years I have shared many of own my own poems on my blog. I love to write acrostic poems where the first letter of each line reads downwards to spell a word. There are several of those in my poetry anthology, Beginnings, that I published a couple of years ago.

A bit like journalling, I use poetry to express my unspoken emotions. It can be an amazing emotional release!

I firmly believe that anyone can write poetry. So, my challenge to you, as part of National Poetry Month, is to write a short poem and to share it in the comments below. I’ll never ask anyone to do something that I am not prepared to do myself so here’s mine.

Pick a theme or a word.

Ordinary items will do.

Explore its meaning to you.

Test your abilities.

Relax and enjoy writing it down.

You might surprise yourself.

For those of you who have not yet found my poetry anthology, here’s the link-

Beginnings – a collection of poems – Kindle edition by McCallum, Coral. Literature & Fiction Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.

Beginnings – a collection of poems eBook : McCallum, Coral: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

(image sourced via Google- credits to the owner)

A Rail Spot For ……BATS…lots and lots of bats!

Decades ago, I developed a fear of bats. I’m terrified of them!

The fear originated when I was about 12 years old and one on me indoors! We were on holiday and staying in a holiday house. The living room was at the front of the house and the loo and the hall light switch were at the back of the house. One night, after watching tv I was walking down the hall in the dark on my way to the loo when this thing brushed across the side of my neck. It was the creepiest thing I have ever felt touch my bare skin! As my mum will testify to – I screamed the place down!

It was a bat.

After terrorising me, it had flown into the kitchen where my folks spent the next hour trying to catch it to set it free. The creature eventually fell, exhausted, into the sink. My dad trapped it in a tea towel and cupped it in his hands. I remember him bringing it into my bedroom to show me my attacker.

I’ve been absolutely terrified of them ever since.

Move on forty some years and I found myself in Austin, Texas for a few days. Fabulous city but one of its main tourist attractions is the bat colony that lives under the Ann W Richards Congress Avenue Bridge in the heart of the city.

Every night at dusk the entire colony flies out from under the bridge. Folks wait on the bridge and down on the banks of Lady Bird Lake or in boats on the lake for hours waiting for the bats to flock out.

The very thought sends shivers to my core!

When I first visited Austin two years ago, I declined to go and watch this spectacle.  I recall walking under the bridge late afternoon one day and hearing the bats stirring. They were chirping and squeaking. That was as much as I could cope with that trip.

However, some fears perhaps need to be faced. So, big girl panties pulled up, I agreed to go and watch the bats fly out for the night.

The bat colony in questions are Mexican Free-tailed bats. They took up residence under Congress Avenue Bridge around 1980 when bridge renovation work created perfect narrow dark warm crevices for them to hide in.  The bats are great for the local environment as they consume a huge number of insects, including mosquitos, evert night.  Its estimated, depending on the time of year and size of the colony that they eat between 20 000- 30 000 pounds (9 -13.5 tons) of bugs a night!!

So, how many bats are lurking under the bridge?

Numbers vary depending on the time of year. At peak season, after they have bred, there are 1.5M of them.

At this time of year, their numbers are considerably lower. There were around 150 000 in residence while was in town. More than enough for me, thank you very much!

On our first night in town, Boy Child and I headed to the bridge as the sun was setting to secure our rail spot for the night. Definitely not my usual preferred kind of rail spot! With my stomach in knots, I stood leaning on the rail watching the kayakers and tourist boats gather below on Lady Bird lake and the crowds gather on either bank and around me. My heart was pounding as I waited.

Eventually, the bats began to emerge. I had expected them to fly out in a big group but on this evening they came out in several smaller groups with many of them spending time flying round the columns of the bridge itself. It was getting quite dark as most of them flew east across the sky.

Congress Bridge bats in Austin Tx 260326

A few nights later, we were waling back across the bridge to our Air BnB after dinner as they were emerging again.  This time it was earlier in the evening and it was lighter. It was also less windy and I suspect that plays a part here too.

We stopped on the bridge for a second time to watch them set off for a night’s hunting. This time they swarmed out in a constant flow of tiny fluttering critters.

Congress Bridge bats in Austin Tx pt 2 290326

Congress Bridge bats in Austin Tx 290326

I’ll admit that seeing them swarm off across the sky was an impressive sight. I shudder to think what 1.5M of them looks like!

As I walked back to the Air BnB I was pondering two questions – where do they go every night and when do they return?

I guess I’ll never know.

Unconditional Love….. a poem for Valentine’s Day

Understanding what makes you smile

No strings attached

Celebrating all your successes however small

Offering support without being asked

No expectations of love in return

Duration and strength in the unspoken bonds between our hearts

In this lifetime, past lifetimes, lifetimes yet to come

Trust

Implicit trust

Once in a lifetime soulmate connection

Nurture over need

Always got your back

Loyal to the death

Loving freely and deeply and quietly

Openly and honestly

Volunteered without question

Endless…

A World of Frost and Magic – a Christmas short story

Outside the world was crisp and cold. White frost sparked on the ground in the wintery sunlight. Wrapped up in a thick jacket with a fur-lined hood, hat and gloves, Rosie took her mummy’s hand and squeezed it tight. Mummy had promised her “a magical adventure.”

She had been a bit surprised when her mother had driven them to the beach but she kept quiet, trusting implicitly that Mummy knew where they were going.

It was Christmas Eve and as they had scraped the ice from the windscreen of the car before setting off, Mummy had reassured her that they could scatter the sachet of “reindeer dust” that Rosie had brought home from school as soon as they got back from their adventure. Overflowing with excitement about Christmas and Santa Claus and presents, Rosie had asked if they could lay out Santa’s milk and cookies and a carrot for Rudolph too. She had been a little bit disappointed when Mummy had said no because it would be too early but had brightened up when she promised that they would do it before bedtime.

“So much to do on Christmas Eve!” thought Rosie as she walked along the icy path holding her mother’s hand. “And we’ve got to go on this magical adventure too!”

As they walked, Mummy pointed out a huge holly bush with jaggy green leaves and millions of bright red berries. She also pointed out a tiny robin that seemed to be following them as it hopped from one fence post to the next.

Instead of taking the usual path to the beach, Mummy turned right into the woods. Without their leaves, Rosie thought the trees looked a bit scary. They towered above her! Trying to be brave, she held on even tighter to her mother’s hand.

“Nearly there,” promised Mummy, squeezing her hand. “Keep your eyes peeled for the fairy stepping stones.”

“How will I know what to look for?” quizzed Rosie.

“Round flat white stones no bigger than a penny. If they were any bigger the fairies couldn’t move them. You’ll know them when you see them.”

They had only walked a little further when Rosie spotted them. There was a whole trail of them leading away from the path into the forest.

“There they are!” squealed Rosie, eyes wide with excitement and her fear of the trees forgotten.

“If you promise to stay extra quiet, we can follow them.”

Together they tiptoed quietly into the woods, following the trail of fairy stepping stone.

“Will we see a real fairy?” whispered Rosie, taking great care not to stand on any of the small white stones.

“Maybe.”

The white pebble trail led them to a tiny fir tree standing slightly apart from the other trees.

“I think we’re just in time,” whispered Mummy. “Look down at the bottom of the tree beside the last stepping stone.”

Rosie crouched down but could only see the tree’s rough bark.

“Look closer,” encouraged Mummy.

Peering closely at the bark, Rosie saw a tiny step ladder, its top disappearing into the branches.

“Mummy, there’s a ladder,” she gasped quietly. “Is that how the fairies climb the tree?”

Her mother nodded then whispered, “Look at the branches. Look very closely at the ends.”

As she watched each branch closely, Rosie thought she saw movement between the pine needles but she couldn’t be sure then she saw that there was a tiny light at the end of one branch. Silently, she pointed to it and smiled at her mother.

As mother and daughter stood hand in hand, they watched a tiny light appear at the tip of every branch, starting from the bottom and working its way up the tree. Each light was a perfectly shaped bright white snowflake. When the trail of lights neared the top of the tree, Rosie wondered what was going to happen when the fairies reached the top.

Looking closely at the top of the tree, Rosie saw more ladders going right up through the pine needle to the very tip. Holding her breath, she watched five miniscule, winged figures climbed the ladder to the very top of the tree. Supporting each other, the fairies arranged themselves into the shape of a star with the tiniest fairy right at the very top. Once they were all in position, they each held up a lantern creating a dazzling star effect at the top of the tree. Rosie thought it was the most beautiful Christmas tree that she had ever seen.

“Time to go,” said Mummy softly.

“One more minute,” pleaded Rosie quietly, as she tried to imprint the image of the fairy lit tree into her mind.

“One minute and not a second longer,” agreed Mummy.

It had grown quite dark around them while they had been watching the lighting of the tree. As they retraced their steps, the fairy stepping stones appeared to glow in the dark, illuminating their way back to the main path. Halfway back, Rosie paused to turn to look back at the tree. It was twinkling among the huge dark trees that surrounded it. Rosie smiled.

“Come on, Rosie,” said her mother. “Time to go home and sprinkle your reindeer dust.”

With one last lingering look at the tree, Rosie headed home with her mother, hoping that Sanra might bring her a fairy doll.

(image sourced via Google- credits to the owner – no tag)

Five Minutes With Your 16-year-old self.

If you had the chance to sit down with your 16-year-old self for five minutes what would you say to them?

I sat down with the intention of writing this blog as a letter to my 16-year-old self. In fact, I had it half-written and I scored through it in my notebook. Why? Because if I wrote what I want to say and warned her about the decisions that perhaps did not lead down the happiest of paths or that didn’t match her 16-year-old dreams then I might not become the person I am today.

At 16 would you really believe what this weird 55-year-old version of yourself is telling you? Most likely not because a t 16 you think you’re invincible and know it all.

Looking back, I wasn’t perhaps a typical party animal teenager. I was always shy and introverted, a bit of loner with only a handful of friends. I was never popular in school. I was the girl with the long hair who was the weirdo that was always hiding in corners, scribbling furiously in a notebook. Those reading this who have known me since them are probably nodding and thinking that not much as changed in almost 40-years. To a degree, they would be right.

Would it be fair of me to go back and tell that fragile teenager that she will mess up her Highers and never get the chance to go to medical school to become a doctor?

Would it be fair to tell her about married life and her future children?

I don’t think so.

So, if I had a brief five minutes to sit and talk to my 16-year-old self, I’d tell her this.

“I love you and I am very proud of you. Don’t stop viewing the world with that child-like curiosity. Stay curious and fascinated by random things. Keep writing! Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you’re wasting your time or that you’re not good enough. You are more than good enough. Keep listening to your music. Don’t compromise your tastes to comply. Music plays a big part in your life and it always will. You’ll meet some amazing people through music. Stay in touch with your inner child. Keep her safe. She’s an integral part of what makes you who you are.”

Then I would give her a huge hug.

If she plagued me for more answers, I’d politely decline to reveal any more than that.

Throughout life we make our choices and decision based on the information available to us at that point in time. Yes, hindsight is a beautiful thing but if someone from the future influenced those decisions, even the simple ones like the decision to go out for a couple of drinks with a friend one Sunday evening when you’re 18, life would change. You wouldn’t be you. It’s the journey through life that makes us who we are and it’s taken a long time but I am proud of who I am.

I’d like to think my 16-year-old self would be proud of me too.

My 16-year-old self

Unconditional Feline Love (flash fiction -150 words)

Alone in the bedroom with their human, the two cats sat watching as the brave face she had put on during the day, the smiles and laughter from her business video calls, vanished. As they watched her pull a baggy t-shirt over her head, a cloud of sadness descended over her. Was that a tear on her cheek?

The feline brothers exchanged a glance, telepathically agreeing their strategy. Their human was their world and they were hers.

In the darkness as she slept, they settled on the bed, one on either side of her. One slept curled up close to her heart where she could reach out and hug him close. The other brother stretched out along the length of her legs, sharing his body heat with her to help ground those human emotions. Both of them purred the sound resonating deeply.

Surrounded by unconditional feline love, she slept soundly.

Note- the cat in the photo was Gandalf, my beautiful white boy who crossed over the rainbow bridge a long time ago. He was one of a kind. Miss him.

Have you ever felt drawn to journaling and not known how to?

Have you ever kept a journal? I have- many of them! (some of them are in the photo)

By journal, I’m not meaning a diary where you record what you did each day. (I’ve kept one of them for 40 some years.) What I’m meaning is a journal or notebook for your eyes only where you have poured your heart out onto the page or vented your frustrations.

Did you know that therapeutic journalling has been proven to help people who have suffered trauma and loss as well as those who suffer from chronic illnesses?

In the 1980’s James Pennebaker, a US social psychologist, was one of the first to study the therapeutic benefits of writing in a journal. His study found that journalling was beneficial both emotionally and physically. Journalling especially if the person has written about a stressful event or situation has been proven to support the body’s immune system.

There’s no right or wrong way to journal. It is YOUR journal for YOUR eyes only so of course you are at liberty to write in any way you feel drawn to. You don’t even have to write in full sentences and no one is going to correct either your spelling or your grammar. It is your space to write how you feel you need to but for those who have never tried to journal or who have tried and not had much success with it, I’m going to share a few suggested techniques.

One of the simplest ways to journal is use Lists to help acknowledge and address your fears or feeling or emotions. Have you ever jotted down a list of pros and cons? That’s journalling. This technique can be useful as it helps you to “join the dots” (think on feelings or emotions as the dots) and can help you to gain clarity around the situation.

It might be that you need to “speak” to someone to explain how you really feel about a situation but face-to-face you can never find the right words or the right moment. If you find yourself in this situation, you could write an “unsent letter.” This technique is also powerful for those who have suffered a loss and are grieving. Use your journal to write openly and honestly to the person on your mind and allow yourself to “speak” freely with out the fear of offending them or suffering any repercussions. It is a liberating experience! Trust me, I’ve written several “unsent letters,” especially over the last couple of years.

You can also journal about specific events that might either be the best or worst moments of your life. By writing about it, telling its story, it could offer you a different perspective on things so that, especially if it is a negative memory that you are reliving in your journal, that it becomes a chapter in the story of your life rather than the controlling narrative.

One of my personal favourite techniques is gratitude journalling. This is one that I practice at the end of every day before I head upstairs to bed. It’s a simple technique. You can buy specific gratitude journals but any notebook will do. For my daily practice, I write one sentence about three or four small moments from the day that I am grateful for. It could be something small like hearing your favourite song on the radio or on your playlist or the taste of your first cup of coffee of the day. Simple moments that made you smile. I also note down three or four things that I am looking forward to. Again, don’t over think it and keep it simple. These techniques only take a few minutes and can help you to find a few moments of light even on the darkest of days.

So, the next time a notebook catches your eye online or on a shelf in a shop, buy it.

If a novelty pen or sparkly pen, catches your eye and makes you smile, buy it. The combine the two with words from your heart.

You’ll feel the better of it.

Frankenstein’s Purr

From the second I saw them

Your blue eyes stole my heart

And you purred

From the day you came home

Cat wars that lasted a decade ensued

And you purred

You would fight with your shadow if it had paws

Advancing age and a lack of teeth didn’t matter

And you purred

The last of “the old guard”

Still looking like two cats stitched together

And you purred

A tiny cat with a huge heart

Always a midnight “song” for all to hear

And you purred

Too weak to stand

The rainbow bridge beckoned

And you purred

I miss that purr.

Frankenstein    Feb 2010- 14 October 2025

Several Pairs of Feet and a Lot of Brown Hens….

Over thirty-five years ago I read a book by Barbara Erskine called Lady of Hay. I still have that copy of it. That book sparked a lifelong interest in regression and past lives.

Is this really our first life? Is it our only life? What about all those déjà vu moments? Were there other lives?

At the time, in the late 1980’s, I remember telling my mum that I would love to be regressed but that was pre-internet, and it was difficult to track down a therapist via the Yellow Pages. Plus, would I really trust a total stranger to do that kind of therapy with me even if I did fine one?

The thought floated through many times over the years, but I never acted on it until now.

If you are a total cynic about past lives, re-incarnation and the like, you might want to stop reading here and come back next week.

Still with me?….

A couple of weeks ago while I was scrolling through Facebook, I spotted a post from a friend celebrating her success with two recent training courses. There was a lovely smiling photo of her with her two certificates. Two words on once of the certificates caught my eye. I zoomed in – past lives.

Ok so now you see where this is going….

After a quick telephone chat with the lovely lady herself, I made an appointment for a past lives’ hypnotherapy session.

If you Google past life regression therapy or past lives’ hypnotherapy you get an AI overview that explains “it’s a hypnotherapy technique that guides a person to access supposed memories of past lives to resolve current issues.”

I wasn’t going into this with the naïve expectation of learning that I’d been a princess living a fairy tale life or been a famous author or anything overly specific. Ok I might have been curious to learn if I’d been tried and hanged as a witch. (None of my close friends would have been surprised if that was the case!)

I didn’t go into the session itself with any expectations. I went in with an open mind.

What followed was the most amazing and surprisingly relaxing ninety minutes or so.

It would be unfair of me to go into too many specifics of the session here. (It might also make for a boring read if I relived it chapter and verse here and now.) Instead, I’ll cover the salient points that I feel comfortable to share.

I’ve never experienced any form of hypnosis before and that was perhaps the part I was a little anxious about. I needn’t have worried. That part was incredibly pretty and relaxing and led to me visualising a dark night sky (although my night sky was a colour I refer to as Reiki purple.) criss-crossed with a web of silver silky cords.

In my mind’s eye, with the therapist’s gentle encouragement, I chose one to follow and picked it up. Over the course of the session, I was encouraged at points to let go of the cord and “drop into” that life, starting each time by looking at my feet.

I saw several pairs of feet. The first pair were crammed into shoes that were too tight. I could actually feel my feet being squashed even though in my current life they were encased in a comfortable pair of Converse. Next were bare feet belonging to a girl of about twelve or thirteen. Men’s brown leather lace up shoes followed then it was back to bare feet. These bare feet belonged to a little boy about eight years old and they were filthy! Emerald green silk shoes followed on, and the final pair of feet were in well-worn black leather shoes.

Each time I got a sense of the lifetime that those feet led rather than feeling that I was in that lifetime. In the brown leather lace up shoes’ life, I was in a printshop with a huge old-fashioned printing press surrounded by piles of paper. I could smell the ink.

The lifetime with the emerald green silk shoes was the one that made me feel uncomfortable. That woman had led a life dominated by a controlling husband and was sad and lonely.

The final pair of feet in the comfortable black leather shoes provided the most vivid images of the session. I was asked to describe what I could see at one point. My reply almost made the therapist giggle. “Chickens. Brown hens everywhere. I like the eggs, but the hens are a nuisance!”

In future blogs or short stories, I may reveal more details of the lives each of those pairs of feet led but for now it feels right to keep most of that private.

The session did give me an insight into where one fear I have may have come from. I don’t like the dark. I get quite scared if I have to walk into a dark room or an unlit hallway. I’m fine outdoors in the dark. It’s indoors darkness that scares me and I’ve never known why.  The little boy with the dirty bare feet shared the same fear.

Several of the pairs of feet lived in coastal areas so perhaps that explains my love of being near water and needing to see an expanse of water on a regular basis. I could never live inland.

The therapist had assured me before we said goodbye that I wouldn’t take any of these past lives with me when I left. The past stays in the past. But, as I drove home, I couldn’t shake the image of the cottage with all of those brown hens in front of it.

When I went to my refrigerator to get something out to cook for dinner, I went to pick up the packet of chicken breasts and paused… It ended up being pasta for dinner. I just couldn’t face potentially cooking one of those pesky brown hens!

If any local friends want to experience their own past lives’ hypnotherapy session please reach out to

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100086909415191

(Image sourced via Google- credits to the owner – no watermark on image)