I’ve Gotta Dream….

A Dream

Dreams come in all shapes and sizes: 

They can be important, world changing – I have a dream;

or small and quiet dream a little dream;

daydream believer dreams;

a nostalgic and hopeful dream in times gone by;

the annoyingly catchy, yet unrealistic, Disney I've gotta dream, 

and of course to dream the impossible dream.  We all have our own personal take on that…

“…get a dream….follow the dream”.  Easier said than done. 

I am a dreamer.  I dream a lot – a life-saving skill that has kept me sane on many a mundane day.  Little dreams and cunning plans are my speciality – the Cbeebies’ Go Jetters' destinations are good for little holiday dreams: 

When my enthusiasm for story and rhyme times wane (and it does) I mentally categorise children’s books into useful teaching topics and nursery rhymes into prominent vowel sounds (once a primary school teacher always…) I geekily dream of creating a database of them...one day…when I have some more time!  But, it turns out I’m not strong in the dream/reality conversion arena.  Where as young Thomas, he clearly is….he had one dream – ONE DREAM.  And wham – here we are, slap bang in the middle of it.  A dream come true!  Amazing.

The Dream

How did Tom, the dream novice, make it happen?  Can it even be called a dream, if it is reality?  Why haven’t I followed any of my (gazillion) dreams?  I know you're all desperate to get your hands on that database! The point here is not to laugh at me or my glamorous dreams and applaud Tom, nor to pity me and scowl at Tom…but to understand the tricks of following a dream whilst being mindful, but not too mindful, of the scary bits. (Follow the red, don't be too swayed by the blue, people, that's the key!)

I asked Tom when the idea of making his own English Sparkling Wine came to him.  The Glyndebourne Food & Wine Festival 2006, he thinks.  It wasn't.  Honestly, how does he succeed at so much with such a sieve of a brain?!  He’d had the dream already by then, he even spoke to Olly Smith about it.  I have witnesses.  But this was a crucial first step to success – tell people, don’t be embarrassed.  Tom told a lot of people, and they asked how the plans were coming along.  For a decade they asked, and he didn't let that put him off.  He had courage of his convictions, and didn't care whether others shared in that.  In truth most questions were born from interest, politeness and gratitude for a topic of conversation amid the haze of sleepless nights; rarely the incredulity or scepticism (how's that novel coming along?), that I would fear.

Next, Tom enrolled on a course at Plumpton College, to learn about all things wine…he got a certificate and I put it on the fridge! And my supportive role didn’t end there:  I accompanied him on wine tastings, tours and drank lots of wine, all in the name of solidarity, encouragement and research! 

Things then started to get a bit real, dad, a key stakeholder, came on board and we were buying trial vines and viewing fields.  My own consumption of wine went into decline for valid reasons and my interest in this project dwindled alongside.  Distracted by our growing troop of monkeys and shrinking disposable income, the cost of vineyards and the scarcity of perfect fields, the wine business was sidelined to a hobby.  But it bubbled away and embedded.  And then, just when the timing was RUBBISH, the perfect opportunity came along.  It takes considerable bravery (for want of a better word) to ask your wife to move away from her ‘village’ one week before your third child is born.  But when it is ‘now or never’, everyone has to make that decision.  Take the leap of faith or don't?  A slightly trickier choice when you were perfectly happy with life as it was. But a bold move by all none-the-less.

His Dream, My Dream

So here we are.  Living the dream.  Building a new village and insisting the old one comes and visits regularly!  Still resolutely calling the whole thing HIS DREAM, but gradually carving out my own little dreams into the BIG dream. Often daunted and over-worked, but more regularly rewarded.  The whole troop seems to be thriving, and I am happy....still.  The gamble is paying off so far! 

A Difficult Age

My son is 4 and people often tell me, ‘that’s a difficult age’…in fact parents are constantly warned about tricky patches in a child’s development.  Well-meaning onlookers will happily mutter ‘ooh dear, the terrible twos,’ [real meaning], ‘excuse me, your child (aged anywhere from 1-4) is having a tantrum.’ [Yes, thank you!]

But no one warned me about my mid-to-late-thirties, and by ‘my’ I mainly mean Tom’s.*

We’re not alone in this.  It really is a difficult age (cue foot stamp!) Many of our friends, whether they are single, or in a relationship, or parents, or not, have experienced a similar thing.  There are many reasons for the trickiness, some are personal to the individual, but several we have in common:

In the work place you may suffer one of the following frustrations:

1) The Rapunzel blockade...you’re trapped in (hopefully) a metaphorical tower. You feel claustrophobic, due to boredom, frustration or lack of fulfilment and want to break out.  But it is a long way down (in salary usually) and there’s nothing as straight-forward as a door to walk out of.

2) (Disney alert!) The King Louis effect. No, not the king of the swingers, blimey!  More the - you’ve reached the top and had to stop - bit (or as high as you/your bosses have any interest in you going), and that is what’s bothering you, thank you.

3) Or the Dolly Parton - Working 9-5 dream: a fulfilling job where leaving at 5pm is acceptable, or perhaps a part-time/job share position that actually works well.  You may have reclaimed that work-life balance, for whatever reason is important to you, but it is a very tricky thing to pull off. Sad but true. (By the way, in case you’re ever tempted, Working 9-5 is an amusing, yet very hard song to karaoke! #shouldvestucktoDisney.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you).

Outside of work, life takes a sudden turn for the fragile.  Your children, your partner, your parents, your friends add a vulnerability to your happiness. Ambitions, that you never even had, annoy you as they fall by the wayside.  For example, the average age of a 2012 Olympic synchronised swimmer was 22.8.  How infuriating, how limiting!  According to a google search, at my age, I still have three remaining Olympic career options: Show Jumping, Shooting or Sailing, phew!

Onwards and Upwards

Whilst these issues are certainly harder to resolve than my 4 year old’s (food, sleep, a cuddle, Star Wars) – I believe they are not impossible to tackle.

Step 1: Dream a Dream, little or big or medium sized, whatever fits and takes your fancy.

Step 2: Follow that dream. 

Both steps are hard; they have their hurdles, and yes, I know, I’m not 26 years old, it’s not on my list of events….but that doesn’t matter.  We (you’re coming too) can get over, round, through them any way we like, it’s not even cheating.  So come on Dolly, Louis, Rapunzel, whatever your name is....grab a trampete, get a step-ladder, poke them with a stick, or just push them over as you go.  Better still, get other people to knock a few down for you…. I intend to get a whole band of merry (wo)men to come with me. 

I am not ‘over the hill’ – my onwards is still upwards; downhill hurts my knees anyway.  And I won’t be walking (I really dislike walking)…..I think I’ll skip and stomp and occasionally trudge, when I’m a bit tired. 

But I am going.  These are exciting times!

* My husband’s parents will probably volunteer up some other difficult ages, if I were to predict based on their stories, I’d say from 18months old to current day!

A Proper Introduction - Are You With Me....?

Decanting To Kent - The Introduction

It is 11:07pm and I have just made myself a cup of tea, a builder’s tea.  I am not a builder, but I’ve been bold and gone for the tea anyway.  I am going to write this blog post, tonight.  I meant to write it yesterday evening, and the evening before and the evening before that….but a whole pile of excuses happened; some genuine - children throwing up type excuses, some less convincing – Broadchurch was on type excuses!  But here we are: if you’re reading it; I’ve written it….

I’ll introduce myself a bit more later, but a summary for now: my name is Clare, I am approaching 40; I have spent the last 17 and a half years living in London town:  I worked there, got engaged there, married… elsewhere, (London was too pricey!) and had three children there. I’d really settled there, and then, well, then we went and moved, ….to a vineyard, in Kent!

Why?  Good question.  To chase a dream; not my dream, no no!  My husband’s dream.  Why?  Another good question, well done!  Lots of reasons, wine being a biggy, I’ll explain along the way, I’m only telling you this much now, so you can judge whether you’re with me or not!

Don’t worry, I really do have a very low expectation of the ‘following’ I will muster*.  I don’t say this to gain your sympathy, I don’t want it, thank you,  I have wine, remember?!  It is more as a statement of fact, and to build on the picture you have of me, because you don’t know me yet.  My friends of course know me, but they won’t be reading this blog, because I won’t be telling them about it.  I’m not mad! ….. I’m not nearly brave enough to let them read it!  So who will read it? My mum at least?…..No – she didn’t embrace the world of computers in time, let alone the internet, so this will pass her by.  Therefore it is left to you, a random stranger who happens upon my blog!  A random stranger, who happens upon my blog, whose interests may include wine and is interested in reading about some 40 year old woman following someone else’s dream!  Niche you say?  Well, let me up the ante a little more!  A wine swilling stranger who happens upon my blog, is interested in a 40 year old woman’s journey to follow someone else’s dream and who can put up with the occasional** reference to Disney.*** 

Yesterday, someone told me that there is a club in America where grown men gather to talk about historical washing machines.  He told me in an attempt to prove that people might like anything, even when you would never predict it.  Therefore it is not impossible to conceive that people might enjoy my blog!  In fairness to him, he is too kind a soul to have said this in direct reference to my blog, he was saying it about his own project.  Aren’t we all so beautifully self-deprecating?!  And he wasn’t even British, he’s just lived here long enough to gain the skill.

 

Anyway, to my niche of people who want to grab on to my coat tails, whilst I grab onto someone else’s coat tails, whilst they follow their dream….welcome!  Let’s try not to spill too much wine as we conga through my new life! 

* Apologies to Mrs Maccaire, who really did do her best to teach me a ‘Positive Mental Attitude’ – I really appreciate what she was trying to achieve and think it is very important, I’m just not entirely sure it was a great success with me!

** For occasional read relatively frequent plus possibly CBeebies too.

*** Don’t judge!  I spend my days with babies and toddlers, who talk and do a lot of random crap.  Kiddie style random crap turns out not to be so very useful as mileage in an adult, social setting.  I’ve replaced my (minimal) current affairs knowledge with being a poo aficionado.  Instead of learning new work concepts I keep my brain agile by juggling the ever-changing logistics of our collective day and the only reading material I manage to stay awake for, mostly, is the bedtime fairy story.  Disney is as good as it gets.

As an aside (more character development stuff) I genuinely think if I went on Mastermind now, Disney films may well be my best shot at a specialist subject. Seeing films over 50 times will do that for a person. I could pretend that this is just a recent thing, and pre-kids my specialist subject would have been far more impressive, but in truth it would probably have been ‘Home and Away’ or ‘Agatha Christie’. Anyway, I digress……where was I?  Oh yes…

THE END

(of the introduction, not the whole blog, vomit and Broadchurch dependent!)