The best memoir I've read in an age

'Tharon Ann' by Jennifer Brookins

 

Anyone who has read Jennifer Brookins ‘Who’s up ‘ on Face Book will know she is a born writer.  Not surprisingly her life story is one of those gems you can’t put down and I envy you having it to look forward to.

She speaks with the authentic voice of each age and period in her life and is at her  most captivating as the gutsy, abused little girl.
 

Tragedy strikes when her father is killed in a road accident 3 months before she is born. Her mother can’t find it in her heart to love her.  She is rejected by her stepfather and while her mother is dying in hospital she is abused by a family friend.

But T.A.  is no victim and she takes ‘Mr God’ to task when she can’t reconcile the teachings of Jesus with the racial bigotry in Little Rock USA.

When her dearest friend Tessie – a little black girl - dies she appears to T.A. in a vision and tells her ‘there ‘aint no black and white in Heaven – just love.’  At one time Tessie and her mother Mama are

the only ones to shew Jennifer love and affection.  We learn that Tessie dies but not what happened to her and Mama.

 The next part of her story is when she becomes an acclaimed actress working with such luminaries as Kazan, Warhol, Albee, Robards, Jackie Kennedy and Ronald Reagan to say nothing of Lucille Ball. (It’s fair to say that Jennifer did not love Lucy.)  There are fascinating insights into this exalted company

Hard edged, spirited fighter though she is Jennifer begins to lose her way in this period – drink, drugs, four packs of cigarettes a day and she has a disastrous marriage with the 'Sperm Donor' who leaves her pregnant and caring for their child Rome and Willy the sperm Donor’s child from another marriage.  She now has to care for three children as a single Mum

 Then she becomes a Seeker ‘I can’t find him’ she laments to Lowee a caring relative.  She hears of a mystic - Mary Blakemore and becomes obsessed with finding her.

This is the part I had some difficulty with - questioning some of Mary’s treatment of her devotee but in the end I admit it worked for Jennifer.  An example of her influence is when Mary told her to have all her teeth extracted but to consult four dental surgeons first .  Jennifer did so and the consensus was that her teeth needed treatment but extraction wasn’t necessary.  So Jennifer has them all extracted as she felt this is what Mary wanted.

I have to say Jennifer has the most beautiful smile.

 Being a romantic my cup overflowed when there was a happy ending – and not just spiritual one. 

No review could do justice to this book- you have to read it for yourself.  Enjoy.

 

One of the nice things F.B. does.

https://www.facebook.com/pat.mackay.7/videos/vob.1681956243/10200813424492895/?type=2&theatre

It made me cry when I read about our 33rd wedding anniversary.  The last we had together.

Wonderful Copenhagen

 Rather a dull day - to the right is the bow of our ship The Braemar and central is Queen Margrethe's yacht which she uses quite often.

 The Little Mermaid who has to sit on her rock for 300 years before she can become human.  She has been there since 1913.  I'll leave you to 'do the math!'

 This coach was our transport for the day.  Our captain always managed to get us an excellent berth so we avoided long trips into the town.

 The summer residence - Rosenborg Castle which houses the Crown jewels.  Now those I would have liked to see.

 I suppose he is guarding the jewels.

 A city of bicycles

 Just a drive-by view of the Tivoli Gardens.

 This seemed to be a covered trike for Mum and child.. 

 Here is where the Royal Family live so they are much more accessible than ours.  The Crown Prince has four children and one can see them going to school etc.  Sadly we didn't  but the band was a bonus

 The courtyard of the Amalienborg Palace

 

 

 

http://gloriousopportunity.org/  I put this link on Face Book and as far as I can see no-one has read it.
I hope you will.  It is relevant to us all and you may find it reassuring.  Thank you.

 

Meet Oscar!

My new sweetheart and his Mum Gail.  I promise you he is just as adorable as he looks.

So this is Germany.

We docked at Travemunde - which means mouth of the Trave - our first port of call in Germany.  Most of us had already chosen the excursion for our brief stay - not an easy task when you are unfamiliar with the area and there are usually half a dozen to choose from.  In the end I opted for Lubeck.  I remember the boys' father had been there when he was in the navy in WW2 and chose to see it by boat.  Lubeck is a UNESCO heritage town and we travelled the 20 kilometres  from the ship by coach.  Below is our boat.

 

 

 

 

Lubeck is a city of spires including the twin towered Holstein Gate, St Mary's and St Peter's churches

We floated past merchant homes, historic granaries, salt storages and warehouses of this once world leading trade city.

Malerwinkel or artist's corner is a peaceful spot

It was always a joy to get back to Braemar for a delicious meal. 

In fact the only fly in the ointment was I couldn't use my tablet as the ship - at the time - couldn't access wifi and at one time I was texting our French son in Paris to text

my DIL in UK to text me - as a helpful passenger had deleted her details on my phone.

Strange times.

 Here today- looking not too bad considering the gardener disappeared over a month ago.  Saint Mick mowed the lawn for me and he is on the last leg of the kitchen now.  Then its Brian for the floor and one of his relatives for the windows.  Meanwhile I have the plumbers. The constant 'brewing up' keeps me busy and today it is quite hazardous as we have five man holes and they are all open.  I long to be straight again with all the extraneous rubbish disappeared.

 Yesterday was weird - One of the plumbers/engineers - young Charles was left here whilst his mate drove down to Plymouth for a replacement camera.  Suddenly I heard an unfamiliar rasping noise.  Nothing to do with Charles - he was sitting disconsolately by one of the drains with his hood up waiting for his mate.  As I walked in the direction of the unfamiliar sound I wondered what strange creatures may have been disturbed by all the probing and swooshing in drains almost a hundred years old.  As I got nearer the source I found the sound - now increased in volume - came from the lions guarding the fountain.  For some years it had been a delight - sparkling water gushing from the large pineapple at the top and from the noble lion's mouths.  Then one day - some years back it gave up the ghost.  Alastair said we would have to get an electrician to find where we had buried the pump

and repair it.  For one reason and another this never happened and it seemed indulgent to use electricity so I could hear the sound of running water.  One old friend said I had ideas above my station.   I got Mick to make a hole in the basin to let rain water out and planned to fill it with stones - preferably brought from friends far and wide.  I have all manner of stones from France(French son)to bonny Scotland (Kim).

 

Then the many wild flowers in the garden would seed themselves and it would be a natural delight.

I hadn't realised just how many stones it would take and so far no flowers appeared but a little stagnant moss.

I digress.  I ran to get Mick and before he reached the fountain he said,

 "That's your pump."

"It can't be - it hasn't worked for years."

"Well it's working now!"

Mick always knows what to do and he firmly switched the derelict switch off.

Alastair never was really sold on the fountain so I have quashed thoughts that I might fill it up with water - stones and all - and give it another go.

Best let it lie.

 

 

 

I should try Nina's idea of putting jasmine petals in a glass dish.

 u

Wish me luck - I'm going to give the lawn a go when I can reach the shed.



Our Table in theThistle Rastaurant

 Hazel who was butted by her prize ram and Maurice - a prize giggler.

 The irrepressible Fay and Ian my chocolate supplier.

Jean my aperitif companion with Maurice.