Scale that mountain

It has become deeply symbolic. I'm not talking about my jotter, which my youngest walked off with and then filled several of its pages with random scribbles. No, the large mound of earth outside my house. You see, I've been building some decking in my back garden, and what I thought would be a few wheelbarrows of earth, actually turned into probably 20. So, how to get rid of it?
A skip or grab hire? Too expensive. Too much for trips to the dump or to hide in the compost bin or under various hedges. The ideas have run really thin, and not just because my jotter went walkabout. Things really do seem to be piling up lately, even after attending a management skills course that confirmed one of my top skills is "Ideation" meaning I don't even have to be awake to have ideas...

And then, out of the blue, a couple of unusual conversations lead to the loan of a trailer and meeting someone who has a large ditch in their back garden they need to fill. Surely not, is this the solution? Have I just been making a mountain out of a molehill and should just pay the money to have it removed?

No, the message seems to be quite clear - "I can provide solutions for what appear to be mountains in your life, but are actually just piles of earth - how much more will I provide for the real seemingly unsolveable problems? Trust me." This comes at a time when I am faced with a crossroads at work, and some serious decisions to make.

And Daniel, (3 1/2) has been telling me all along that this is Pontypandy mountain and he'll sort it out for me, as he scales it flinging clods of earth from the top with his little spade... Perhaps I should listen to him more.

Time travel

A wonderful thing, you might think. To travel back and change the past. To go forward and see the future...

I've often found myself stopping to think at random moments in time and taking stock. I guess it usually starts with staring at my feet. "What on earth are you wearing? When did you buy those? And, more to the point, why?"

Then the thought process goes... "if I had been teleported to this point in time and space from, say five years ago, or when I was at school (that's even longer ago, in case you didn't know) - would I know what on earth was going on... could I have possibly imagined being here? Would I have ever imagined my kids would look like this? (No, obviously they're far better looking.) Would I have ever imagined buying shoes that looked like this?"

It can be a slightly scary moment if you try and imagine yourself bluffing your way through a day at your job with, say, a 15-year old brain... you know, the one that says - "Woah, 33? that's old, that's years off. Would I have known what to say / do / where to go / who any of these people are? Would I have done a better job than I am doing now, what with being quite dozy and staring into space? Or would I be the shy, uncertain and lost 15-year old that I remember being?"

It's a thought process that, although very curious about what might happen and impatient to see the conclusion of something, is actually quite glad that there has been a long story in between. The journey that brought me here. The learning process and the vital steps that have meant I am prepared for the next step.

I then conclude that actually, I am not ashamed of my past and the things it has taught me, and neither do I want to know what's too far around the corner really, because I'm just not ready for it. And then I breathe a sigh of relief in the knowledge that someone does know all this, better still planned it all, and has just given me a dig in the ribs to remind me of this fact.

I'm still wondering about the shoes though...