becciseaborne

It will shock some of you to know that I won’t be saying much – well not in this bit anyway. Some things are so important it is neither easy nor desirable to use lots of words about them.

Most of you will know that that Ellie and I are lucky enough to be very close as sisters, although I’m not sure how much of it is really down to luck; I know Mum and Dad have been a big influence in how our relationship grew from the very beginning. But the roots which join us together go way beyond biology, blood or DNA. Some people just have a permanent connection in time and space – our shared roots go to the centre of the Earth and are fused there forever.

Bizarrely when we were younger, I always thought that what made us close was that we were similar. Of course if you know us, you know that’s ridiculous, and as we’ve grown up (a bit) over more recent years, it’s become patently obvious to me how very different we are, and it’s become just as clear that this is one of the most important things about us. Even now we still grow and learn from each other, and we couldn’t do that if we were too alike.

Having said that there are some pretty fundamental things we do have in common – that are in those shared roots – which provide the safe environment for us to explore and celebrate our difference. We both value loyalty, integrity and a sense of personal responsibility. Having shared beliefs and values like this to form the basis of a happy lifelong relationship is crucial, and I couldn’t be happier to know that these are all things Jon is just as passionate about too.

For Ellie and Jon, loyalty to family and friends is fundamental to who they are, and their concern and commitment to the social and physical world around them has informed so much of what they’ve both done with their lives so far.

You will be blessed if you stay true to these things you believe in. If you are as loyal to each other as you are to your friends and family you will always have a home and feel loved, and if you look after each other as well as you look after the world around you, you will grow together forever. That is what I wish for you both.

Sometimes it’s the small things that make reality bite. For me it was a hug. From someone I get hugs from all the time. But not all hugs are the same, are they?

I’m on the bus to Heathrow, bound for four weeks in Zimbabwe volunteering at an animal orphanage. Yesterday, as my sister left the pub after we shared drinks with a few friends, we said our goodbyes and hugged. It wasn’t a casual au revoir type hug; it was a proper, tight, lovely, warm, meaningful hug. Suddenly I came crashing down to Earth with a bang. She’s worried for me and will miss me and that brings the reality of my trip into sharp focus for me. She talks, tells me to take care, all the usual things. She hugs me again. Tighter. She repeats this at least twice more. Shit. I’m about to cry. I make a crap, dismissive joke.

I really don’t like goodbyes, which means I have a tendency to not manage them particularly well. Before leaving work at the end of August to take my sabbatical leave, I spectacularly failed to say an important goodbye to a colleague. Sue and I had worked closely for the full year that I’d been doing the job; she was the administration team leader supporting me and my management team; I trusted her implicitly and relied on her professionalism, judgement, compassion and commitment all the time. I couldn’t have done the job without her. On top of this we got on really well, we had a great laugh too. I knew I’d miss her so much and was dreading the moment that required a proper goodbye, explaining how important she had been to me. I’m not good with emotions.

I gave Sue a thank-you-cum-goodbye card earlier in the week, but kept delaying the moment of actual goodbye – I had meetings and visits away from our office and would say “I’ll pop back in on my way home tomorrow to finish clearing out my in-tray, I’ll see you then”. In the end I was meant to do this on my last day too, but got held up in London and knew I wouldn’t make it back in time. I rang her to have a last chat and say goodbye. After my sabbatical I’m returning to a different role, so I won’t be working with Sue again.

I tried to say thank you and that I’d miss her but the words got stuck. Then a really weird noise came out of my throat and I had to hold the phone away from me for fear she might think I was being garrotted. I was crying like a child! Really big crying with noisy, struggling-to-breathe-properly type gasping to boot. In the end I did manage to say what I wanted to, but it took a while and I had to navigate the words carefully so as not to set myself off again! Sue was great, although she must have thought I was a complete nutter (to be fair, I think she already did). The fact is I’d spent so long trying not to acknowledge what was going to happen because I didn’t want to think about it, that in the end it all just came splurging out anyway, in an incredibly undignified manner. Very predictable really, but there’s nothing like surprising yourself with the inevitable from time to time.

I haven’t improved at goodbyes much since then, although I was a bit better this time. I’m a bit tearful as I write this sitting on the bus, but I have managed to keep it together – more or less – for the various goodbyes I’ve said over the last few days. I have a lot to look forwards to: new places, new people, a whole new experience, and loads of photo and blog opportunities! There’s also plenty I’ll be missing here in the UK; a friend is due to give birth on 5^th November, my sister’s just got a new dog, my cat will miss our little routines. Life goes on wherever else you may be though, and it will all still be here when I get back. So now that I’m on my way, I’m losing some of the trepidation I had started to feel, and I’m relaxing into a slightly unfamiliar feeling of pure excitement.

There are just so many things my next post could be about!

At the beginning of this year I accidentally became a vegetarian. Well, I suppose you don’t accidentally stop eating meat and begin scouring restaurant menus for non-meat dishes that aren’t mushroom risotto. But it really wasn’t planned in the same way as, say, buying a car or choosing a holiday destination. And I am a pretty unlikely candidate; I worked in a butchers’ shop for 5 years and have basically been a card-carrying carnivore since the moment I was able to get a spoonful of pureed beef casserole down my neck. In fact it’s so uncharacteristic that just the other day – 9 months after making the switch – my sister cooked me sausages for breakfast. I had to politely decline and ask for scrambled egg on toast instead.

So, why such a dramatic decision? The truth is I’ve been thinking about it for years. It’s something I’d pondered for so long it had become one of those familiar, comforting conversations I could have with myself when the other voices in my head got too boring or stressful. So in some ways the simple answer is that I decided to stop just thinking about it, and get on and do it.

The real reason, though, is the one that got me thinking about it in the first place. That is down to a very simple equation involving the planet’s resources, the amount of food that it can produce and how many people’s lives can be sustained from that. For ages I’ve done the “right thing” and recycled all my rubbish and bought eco-friendly cleaning products, etc. blah. In other words I’ve done all the easy things that make you think you’re doing your bit – and they are all worthwhile, but I got to the point where it all felt a bit superficial. I just thought it wouldn’t kill me to do a bit more.

I am the sort of person that likes a bit of a challenge; I like to test myself. Whilst training for my first marathon a few years ago I developed a serious back problem and ended up on the chiropractor’s table three times a week. Nothing could have motivated me more to keep training. My chiropractor even ended up giving me about two-thirds of my treatment free, he was so impressed with my (foolhardiness?) commitment. So, as a card-carrying carnivore, what could be more of a challenge than going veggie? Well, going vegan clearly, but let’s not get too carried away.

Despite my meat-loving ways, I didn’t tend to cook with meat all that much at home due to the cost, so I thought I’d give vegetarianism a whirl. Why not? I did also hope it would challenge me in the cooking department. I’m a pretty good cook, thanks to an amazing mum who’s a fantastic cook and shared her love of food and cooking with us as we grew up. However, I wanted to make myself look at new ideas in the kitchen, and more importantly some healthier ones. A stupidly busy working life meant that I’d often get home knackered and end up with the all too easy meat-and-carb option, in various different forms. Part of what I wanted from going veggie was to pull me out of that culinary rut.

So, two questions I guess; has it been difficult and have I achieved a healthier diet? It’s been a great deal easier than I thought it would be. I don’t miss or crave meat – I never miss it at home, and only occasionally “notice” it when eating out. I don’t tend to get food envy when eating out with friends, although I am a bit of a voyeur; my contrary nature rearing its head there. I do have to confess a couple of occasions when I’ve been really conscious of my self-imposed meat ban…how can anyone resist the smell of a Greek barbecue?  Yes, I did end up eating fish from the grill whilst on holiday in Kefalonia, and I don’t regret it. It was local and line-caught, and if that sounds like a justification it probably is, but in terms of sustainability I reckon the planet can handle me eating fish once every two or three months.

And what about being healthier? Well that’s still a work in progress, and maybe something I’ll consider in more detail another time.

View from one of the many tavernas offering fine barbecue fare on Kefalonia