Mum with her beloved Rosie(left) and Beauty

June Patricia Annable Hall 

16.6.29 - 18.11.94

Thank you Mum for your love, and for all the hard work, you are always in my heart, always missed, gone but never forgotten....

The 18th of November will forever be etched in my memory as the day my Mum died. I was 33 and she was 65. My lovely Mum. She was so young.  I can see that more clearly from the perspective of now (age 52)  I can tell you. 19 years this year
since cancer took her from us,  and she never met my husband or our wonderful kids. Loving, devoted to her family, crazy about her dogs (a regular delivery man said, 'when I come back I want to come back as one of Mrs 'all's dogs') steadfast, full of integrity,
a person of high standards, vegetarian,a great cook, an animal rights activist (she belonged to 'chickens' lib') were all things you could say about my Mum.
I was remembering and talking today about a time when Mum got really furious with us. I don't recall her being a cross person a lot. But, she had her hands full when Dad had left home and she had four children,
including two extremely hormonal teenage girls - 14 and 16 ish - who were already off down the pub?! How? I wonder when I think back - but somehow we were. Thank the Lord - that is nowhere near being on my 14 year old's agenda.

Anyway - as I say - Mum did not explode that often - but on this one occasion - we did something (can't remember what) - and she just stood in the the middle of us in the kitchen and smashed a plate on the floor before storming out. Our mouths dropped open we were so taken aback.

Well today I came back from church - having heard my friend Gareth Jones (runner up of radio 2 Pause for Thought search for a new voice - and he would have been sooooo good) talking about 'blessed are the pure in heart'. Pure hearts, love, it was a great morning and I returned home peaceful and full of good cheer.

Sorry to say several hours later I found myself having a big row with my beloved teenage son - and taking to smashing a plate on the floor...I did have another plate chucking  incident outside a year or so ago ( it's not that frequent - honest). It's satisfying in terms of 'expressing' oneself at certain times, but I think I must look into plate smashing places to go,if there are such places?? if you do it at home it's a bit of a comedown having to get the sweeping brush out.

Other Stuff .......

Me and Moy

It's been a hectic old time since the Ralph Steadman opening. All that excitement pushed me up into the 'high' ish zone for a while. After posting on facebook about the Ralph exhibition my friend - the Scottish Artist Moy Mackay - asked me to be her PR person for a London show at the Caledonian Club in Belgravia. So I whizzed down there - and had an awesome night. It ended  up with Moy and me and some old friends - Mairead Devlin - who I used to work with at BBC radio, and Sankha Guha who I was at the London College of Printing with - hanging out in the Caledonian Club with some characters who were attending a function there. 'Twas a veritable scream, with the tour de force coming from a Scottish Etonian Lloyds insurance guy - who wandered into the drawing room where Moy's art show opening was taking place, with his Country Life magazine,  hoping for a quiet half hour.....and instead ended up sitting with us and having us in fits as he pontificated on the state of the nation and thank goodness Cameron was an Etonian, as all other Etonians could come out of the closet etc etc. A good night was had by all, as well as some of Moy's lovely artwork being sold.

At half term, later in October, I visited the Scottish Borders. We stayed with Susana and family, and her hospitality and cooking skills were, as ever, wonderful. It is such a blessing to spend time there. I also had the great honour of sharing my testimony at Hope Church at Tweedbank in the Borders. The church was recently set up by my friends Michael and Suzanne Mcleister. It was great to be there, to see what they are up to and to be with the group of gorgeous Christian women who are, and will always be such an encouraging, uplifting, heartwarming and cherished part of my life. Thank you.

Good to be back visiting the Borders which was
 looking stunning in autumn sunshine

John Ross with former pupil, artist Tom Flint

Halifax enjoys an evening with Ralph Steadman at the opening of his exhibition 

With Ralph 

Ralph being interviewed

Oh what a night. (late September back in '63....love that song) The private view of Ralph Steadman's retrospective at the #Artworks 1830 gallery, and the culmination of two weeks of whirlwind PR stuff. 

I like serendipity, although I actually believe these days, not so much in 'happy chance', as God's perfect and amazing plan. Referring back to the aforementioned song it WAS late September, but 2013. My High Sheriff sister had booked me to accompany her, because of my artistic inclinations, to visit the independent art school and gallery in Halifax, the #Artworks. I had heard of it, but never been.

John Ross (a director and tutor) greeted us sporting his beret and enthusing about all things artworks. As we walked into the old mill, it was love at first sight for me. A class was sat round a large table in the midst of a drawing class. Around other parts of the former weaving shed easels were strewn liberally about and people of all ages, types and styles were at work. This was a place celebrating and enabling creativity to happen. We had the official tour with John Ross and Emma Wilson who has recently become involved on the artworks board. Her husband Nick produces #Pink Pig Sketchbooks and they are the generous sponsors of the Ralph Steadman exhibition. Also with lovely Lauren(tutor and girl wonder) and the amazing Debs - her story of a life transformed and healed by art was an inspiration...the Debs effect.

Towards the end of our visit as we looked round the soon to be opening #1830 gallery, there was mention that they could do with help on the PR front for the Steadman exhibition. With my journalist/PR bit of know how I offered my services and the next two weeks turned into a whirlwind of Ralph Ralph Ralph. Working with John and the utterly delightful Lauren, in Lauren's words, we 'got shizz done'. Man, we were on it. 

We were set to be on Look North and it was all going swimmingly, but the day before the opening they apologised and pulled out saying all would become clear. It did, when we discovered the beeping Prime Minister had chosen the same day as Ralph, to come and visit Halifax. No matter. We had a blast. The show was up and looking stunning in the beautiful #1830 gallery. Soon the man himself - with delightful daughter Sadie (Director of the Ralph Steadman Art Collection) and delightful granddaughter Grace arrived. Ralph was utterly warm, amenable, colourful, funny, inspiring and delightful. Within minutes I had become number one Ralph groupie. I loved his colourful spectacles, I loved his collection of fabulous necklace type things - one of them he told me, given to him by Hunter S T - who said 'put it on Ralph, it'll ward off evil spirits'. Sadie told me a few other tales re Hunter S T, private jets, large bowls of cocaine, and the time he came to stay:she found him so intense presumably unnerving,  that she refused to take her coat off for the duration of his stay.

What a fabulous preview night. Journalists came, people came, there was a long speech from John and a shorter one from Ralph. Ralph did loads of signing in his inimitable fashion. The next morning I went to the hotel where they were staying (in true groupie style)and took them for coffee at Dean Clough, before they headed back down south. I think they enjoyed Halifax - and we LOVED having them. 

You can see some pictures from the preview night on the Ralph Steadman Art Collection facebook page as well as on the artworks website: theartworks.org.uk. Check out thedebseffect.co.uk. And please please please, do not miss this opportunity to see the fabulous and wide ranging work - from Vietnam to Animal Farm, Alice in Wonderland to Leonardo da Vinci - of this internationally renowned artist/cartoonist here in Halifax. Wed.-Sat.10.30 - 16.00 and Sun. 14.00 - 17:00 at the 1830 gallery, Shaw Lodge Mills.

National Bipolar Awareness Day - and 30 years of the charity Bipolar UK

It's 19 years since I received my official diagnosis of what was back in those days called 'manic depression'. In my 20s in London I spent half my life (a few months at a time) as party girl. I was working as a radio journalist, living in Notting Hill, going to The Globe (a low key, trendy club - yummy food upstairs, downstairs into dark red smoky gloom for music and dancing), hanging out at the Ministry of Sound and Subterranea, and driving about in my British Racing Green Lotus Elan, otherwise known as 'baby'. At night with her dials all lit up red, there was nothing quite like cruising down the Kings Road in baby.
Ah but the other months. They were quite different. Alone at home, totally miserable, I was unable to take pleasure in anything. Gloom descended and that was it. I dragged myself to work at Broadcasting House and spent many a miserable hour hanging out the window on the fourth floor chain smoking.

In summer 1992 I summoned the energy to DO something. I fled to California to stay with my oldest, dearest friend who was married, living and working in Los Angeles. By the time I landed in the U.S. my low had become a high....and oh what fun I had. For a while.
I ended up in the Bay Area - doing a course in Culture and Creation Spirituality. I wrote a thesis about depression as spiritual awakening. I also faced another episode of deep dark depression, stocking up on sleeping pills, thinking how good it would be not to exist.

Of course I eventually came out into the light again - and still at this time - I had had no diagnosis, just a lot of talk therapy. By early 1994 my illness shifted into another gear. I had finished my course and moved with friends into Berkeley. There's all sorts of details but in short, I became psychotic. I was wandering about Berkeley at 5 in the morning in my party dress talking to roadsweepers and thinking I was going to some big party somewhere. There was an unusual warm wind - I thought I'd caused it. So many stories - but my friends (Peter Higgs son and his wife actually....forgive the name dropping but so chuffed about his nobel prize) - drove me to my therapist Suzy - I was past being able to drive Bertie (my fab old bright yellow Dodge Dart). Suzy asked if I wanted to go to hospital. I was so scared I surrendered, it didn't seem there was another option. So there I was - Cambridge graduate - admitted to the Langley Porter Hospital in San Francisco. Somehow that wasn't how it was meant to be. I was under the impression that a Cambridge degree led to a life of glittering prizes. Wrong. On arrival at Langley Porter I was bemused to say the least. I have a vague memory of conspiring with some guy called 'Randy' (naturally) to try and smoke - it wasn't allowed - but before I knew it I was transferred from the open to the locked unit - and put in 'isolation'.

But - and it's a big but - that is all in the past. It's been a hell of journey - from prolonged suicidal misery - to the awesome high of experiencing the amazing music and beauty of creation in a weird and wonderful way.

In 1995 I met my husband - back in Yorkshire. My lovely D has stuck by me - with great difficulty - through IT ALL (and still does). We have two amazing children - now 14 and 12.  In the past 10 years - to my great surprise God has come into my life and turned it around. He is doing a work in me, He has a great plan for me, to prosper me and not to harm me. He has given me NOT a spirit of fear, but a Spirit of power and of love and a sound mind ( from 2 Timothy 1:7) Amen to that.

I praise God for the wonderful campaigning work of the charity Bipolar UK - which supports and campaigns for Bipolar sufferers and their carers. Happy 30th Birthday Bipolar UK - and thank you

An 'up' day, cruising in 'baby' 

Dancing the night away at my 30th - on a high after months of depression

I was up at 5am this morning. I didn't intend to get up and stay up - in fact when I've done this I MUST go back to bed and rest,at least for a bit. I came down having woken with a whiff of something dog related - and not a little untoward - if you get my drift - reaching my nostrils. The old dog of the house our beloved 15 year old Border Collie Rufus doesn't usually. Seth our adored 4 year old handsome lurcher left me a big gift yesterday in the middle of the kitchen floor and the baby, 11/12 month old little poodly/terrier Nemo, recently arrived from Lanzarote (that's another story) - otherwise known to us as the Spanish terrorist (specialising in sofa wrecking and yapping at Seth's heels) or little shitster for obvious reasons) is still getting used to his new surroundings and has been known to do one or two things inside as opposed to out.

Anyway - after all that - no mess. But I was down - and in the lovely peace of the early morning, nothing I like more than getting a few jobs - folding washing, bit of admin - done and out of the way before the day starts and the young people are up and about. I am NOT a child, 14 year old Georgina tells me. She has a point. She's edging ahead of me height wise - and as for the quick crosswords we do in the Guardian - she's all there with her onions I tell you. And don't get me started on Dylan's computer skills. My 12 year old son frightens me sometimes with his wizardry at the pc, watch out world, you have been warned.

It's been a manic week. Busy busy busy. I have to remind myself a lot. To stop. Breathe. Psalm 46.10. Be still and know that I am God.

Monday I zoomed 130 miles up and then back down the motorway to Hayton near Carlisle. The memorial service for my dear friend Sara's parents who died within weeks of each other earlier this year. Mark and Roma Andrew. What a special, amazing couple, what a life they had. Met in Africa when they were working for the guides - and scouts. What an incredibly interesting, intelligent, different couple. What an honour to have known them so closely pretty much all my life. And Sara - my beloved friend, now an only child after losing her brother so tragically in a car accident way back in the 80s. She hasn't had an easy time of it. So I wanted to go and be there for her and for my friends Mark and Roma. It was a mad rush - walk dogs, make chicken curry pie and leave for Dorian and kids for tea...then jump in car, set off too late. It was further than I thought. No 'sat nav' just my route planner print out - heading up the M6. Boy I love those hills as the scenery opens out through the Lake District. Racing racing and made it by 2.15 (service began 2pm) - just in time to go and stand beside Sara - I felt the urge to go and hold her hand - as she - bless her - struggled to hold back the tears, talking of her parents. She managed though. She did a great job. It was a lovely informal service in the beautiful little village church. Then the sun shone warm and kind on us as we stood in the graveyard and their ashes were put beside Roma's parents, her sister, and Roma and Mark's lovely son William. May they all rest in peace.

The rest of the week was taken up with doing PR for the wonderful artworks in Halifax and the fantastic Ralph Steadman show which opens next week. #excited, it's going to be #amazing.

There was also some time with my sister in law Kim, who I run our church home group with. We met on Wednesday night for some prayer and planning before our group on Thursday. Group was great. So special and essential to carve out that time to be with spiritual brothers and sisters for fellowship and sit in the presence of the Holy Spirit. Totally reviving and restoring in the midst of the hecticness.

Another mad day of PR, dog walking, artworks, and kids on Friday. Errr that's it. My week. Sunday today. 'Planning' a quiet day. Please Lord. On that note I'm heading back to bed before girding my loins for the forthcoming week. Let the Lord direct my steps and make my way straight. Thank you. Amen

Prayers for health and wholeness

Last night I went to our 'deeper prayer' meeting at church. What a blessing. A group of us met to pray and believe for God to work miracles in our hurting world.  We claimed supernatural healings for ourselves, for afflicted family and friends and for our wider communities. I think of it like the 'butterfly' effect. We sitting praying last night - cannot know what exact impact our prayers will have - but we know they are already answered in a way that only God knows.

You don't need me to tell you we live in a hurting world in desperate need of healing. Countless physical issues and so many lives blighted by cancer. Others of course facing the horrendous and widespread torment of mental health problems. I praise God for the transformation He has worked in my life since the days of all too frequent stays in psychiatric units.

I am vulnerable to getting over excited,  and prompted by something (for example my beautiful niece's wedding a couple of weeks ago) I can easily start with a very disrupted sleep pattern, and that can, if I am not careful, progress into the start of a manic episode. I am experiencing disrupted sleep at the moment but I am praying against that progression and believing for a speedy return to good, long sleeps.

Thank you to all who prayed for me last night. I was given a verse from Mark chapter 4. The disciples got themselves into a state of panic in a boat when a storm blew up. Jesus was in the stern sleeping on a cushion when the disciples woke him, saying, don't you care if we drown. In Mark 4:39 Jesus got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves 'Quiet!Be still!' Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.

I often talk of Psalm 46:10, Be still and know that I am God.

God is love. He is our joy and our peace. He is beyond what we can conceive - a wonderful, compassionate, loving, Father God, and a huge unfathomable mystery. As believers we walk by faith not by sight. We know what we have experienced, we know the transforming power of God's love and mercy.  He tells us to Be Still but He can equally tell the wind and waves to Be Still.

After a life of trying to 'do it all', 'control everything' and play god in my own life, it's been an awesome, amazing journey and a huge weight lifted since I surrendered to God and let Him take the reins. He's my rock and my foundation, my peace. If you give Him a chance, He so wants to be yours. We need all the help we can get, right?
Blessings for a wonderful week.

The Joy of Friendship

Oh the joys of social media. Really, I hear you ask? Facebook? Twitter? Aren't said items the cause of the disintegration of the very fabric of society. After last night I can answer with a resounding no. I am trying to keep up with the times - despite being a zillion steps behind my techno savvy 12 year old son. I do use facebook and twitter frequently but not obsessively. I have no desire to post my status every ten minutes.

I grew up in Yorkshire, have lived in Peterborough and Southend (local radio), London,(Broadcasting House), Los Angeles and Berkeley, California (spiritual questing), Yorkshire (back to my roots), Scotland (madcap adventure ending in conversion to Christianity) and am currently in Yorkshire(back to my roots again).  Anyway - as you can imagine - my friends are scattered far and wide and I do like to keep in touch, often via social media. It's easy and it doesn't take up too much time or energy in the midst of busy family life.

Last night however, was special. I was commenting back and forth with an old friend, the gorgeous Juliet, who I haven't seen for ages - like 16 years. The kids called me through to the kitchen because my mobile was ringing - and who was it, but Juliet. I used to be a real one for ringing people, I'd suddenly think about someone and call them. Nowadays, it's more likely I'll send an email, or a facebook message. I have one friend - from boarding school days - and we exchange cards - using snail mail. The wonder of a handwritten letter, sooooo lovely. Anyway last night it was Juliet who decided, in her wisdom, that instead of carrying on messaging via facebook, she would pick up the 'phone and actually call me. We had the most uplifting amazing conversation. Straight down to life the Universe and everything. A quick bolt through the last 16 years, our families, and so much more. To hear her voice, to laugh and reminisce was just so special.  We picked up as if we had seen each other yesterday.

We are doing life as best we can - with the various challenges thrown at us. Our conversation made me reflect on how years ago - I was dealing with depression - and then some more complicated mental health stuff which emerged. I had no financial worries back then and that aspect of my life was very comfortable, but I didn't appreciate it because I was so miserable. Now, all these years later, my mental health is good, and I am well, but I have some financial 'issues' - shall we say. I think that's the paradox of life. Got to give it all To God and Trust (note to self).

I shared one of the major events of my life with Juliet, namely becoming a born again Christian. She had pretty much picked this up from my facebook account. It has been a life transforming change for me - and has improved my mental health beyond measure.

2 Timothy 1:7 For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power and of love and a sound mind

When we were hanging out in London I was a smoking, drinking, party girl. I still like dancing and partying - not so much the drinking and smoking...but our chat prompted some reflection on those days. No question we had some fun. A girls holiday at my dad's villa in Lanzarote was a highlight. Another was a very civilised tea party for our friend Susie's 'hen' do, at the Savoy, which turned into a protracted night out in the American Cocktail Bar at the Savoy. Copious amounts of champagne, very sweet and friendly waiters and our commandeering of the white grand piano in said cocktail bar for a good old sing song. Happy days.

As for social media, the brief comments, the 'likes' on your status - they all give you a sense of keeping in touch with your friends, but last night, I experienced something different.  Juliet's voice on the other end of the 'phone, her in London, me in Halifax. It was pure joy. We may have bemoaned the various difficulties in our lives, in amongst the laughter, but we recognised that relationship is what it all comes down to - and I know that our friendship is one to seriously celebrate. So thank you Juliet. Bless you for phoning. You made my week. Love you xxx