I don't have an answer to this question.  Or, I have so many answers to this question that there's no one thing I can pinpoint as being the biggest challenge I've faced to-date. 

I walked the streets of Prague alone for a week, unable to speak the language, suffering from depression and feeling unwanted as a future SiL struggled with her own demons.  I travelled three hundred miles to escape my childhood, throwing myself into student life and loving every minute.  I survived a four year abusive relationship, and still struggle to come to terms with the fact that I loved him.  I longed to be loved by a father who deserted me; it took me a long time to realise I could love him without having to actually like him.  I understand now that I am my father's daughter.  I listened to The Big Brother sobbing and I took his pain as my own, but I had nobody to take mine away from me and ease my burden.  I  was kind and let people take photographs of me on my wedding day.  Sometimes I talk on the phone, to strangers.  As a twelve year old I cried in church (often) and told God he was a bastard; I'm still unsure as to where I stand on that score.  I cuddle my Blokey and pretend to be fine but inside my belly is gurgling with a mixture of fear and hope and hate and worry ...

But my Biggest Challenge (so important it deserves capitals) is yet to make an appearance.  My Biggest Challenge is the one that will never be challenged.  It hides in my head and it eats away at me.  Chomp Chomp Chomp.  It bubbles away under the surface, both there and yet not quite there.  I could scream at it, plead with it perhaps, beg it to come to the forefront of my mind.  But I don't actually want that Challenge.  I like keeping it at arms length because challenging it to become my Biggest Challenge will challenge my family and friends to reconsider their roles in my life, and their memories, and their own existence.

Cryptic?  I can be.  And doesn't it make it all the more exciting?

please God, challenge me xxx Elsabeth

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I love London, but rarely ever go there despite it being only an hour or so by train.  I love the way that the modern blends so well with the old. I love the busy-ness of the streets as tourists jostle for position with the natives.  I love the sights, the sounds, the variety of languages and the wonder of the Underground.  When I am an old lady I will spend days sitting on the Underground, watching the world go by.  I could live in London ... I would just be a nameless face going about my business, private and aloof.  Maybe a little eccentric.  But I couldn't live in London ... it's too hectic, too fast-paced.

At the train station yesterday morning we watched an inter-city train whizz past.  Whoa! gasped I.  If you want to end it all, that's quite probably your best bet. 

We indulged in a three course luncheon cruise on the [muddy] Thames, before meandering along the riverside. 

I love the street entertainers, who amaze the tourists with their ability to stay still, or whirl around, or perform magic tricks.  We laughed at them, and at the children who were so gaily entertained.

We hopped on the London Eye and went up above the streets and houses.

I've been on the London Eye before [2002], but I didn't suffer from vertigo back then.  Vertigo is a recent addition to my list of Yikes! - I believe that I acquired vertigo when I had my first ride in a big tin can in the sky [2004].  Until yesterday I hadn't realised that I would find the Eye quite so petrifying. 

Very Yikes!

At King's Cross in the evening it was announced that trains might be delayed or cancelled due to a fatality.  Whoa! gasped I.  As the train rumbled through the station where it happened the children plastered their sticky hands onto the window, and rubbed their noses against the glass, as their morbid curiosity forced them to look for anything that might not have been cleaned up.

And then we were home.  And a beautiful day ended with a late night viewing of tears and sadness and hope*.

please God bless London and its amazingness xxx Elsabeth

*Doctor Who