Wednesday, 20 January: I find it quite mind-boggling it is twenty weeks since I started posting these cancer diary updates. That’s almost five months. When I posted the first one it was with the knowledge I would have maybe seven months to live if I chose not to have treatment. Without treatment I’d have maybe a couple of months left – but I don’t know how many more the treatment may have bought me. Cancer and uncertainty go hand in had.
When I posted my update last Monday I had only six more radiotherapy sessions left. Even as I crossed each one off the printed schedule the final session never seemed any closer.
Before heading off for radiotherapy last Tuesday morning, a quick look at my blog post had me in tears at the messages of support and good wishes and love from so many people from all around the…
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The days of freedom…
Yesterday was the first warm days of Spring. I opened the doors and I opened the window. I allowed the air of Spring to re-fresh the house. I took the grandchildren to the park and I watched them run, run and run some more. I know our children are just children, just for a second. We must allow them to know the sweet days of freedom. Show them how to dance with the wind, sing songs to the sky and laugh at the disappointments.
Us mentors, grandparent, we are the mentors of the future. We must teach the children to dream a thousand dreams and to wish upon the first star of the night, teach them to be kind to each other and teach them, better to have many friends than being alone.
A beautiful Spring day, me and the grandchildren saw the first flowers of…
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This morning I am super excited to be celebrating 2000 followers of my blog. I am so grateful for this support and for the daily likes and comments that I receive about my poetic musings! This is a community which uplifts and inspires me and today’s post is to say a big thank you for your loyalty.
Two thousand thanks to all of you
So grateful for your follows
Expressing states I’m going through
makes life so far from hollow!
Each day I rise there is surprise
a brand new mood to capture
I see life through poetic eyes
and it leaves me enraptured!
I know that your time’s precious too
Your loyalty is treasured
In five years how the numbers grew
Pure growth comes out of pleasure
So thank you for your staying true
Express, confess, don’t wallow!
Two thousand thanks to all of you
So grateful for…
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Welcome to the new #writephoto prompt!
For five years, we did not miss a beat, and every week the stories, poems and artwork flew in to be shared here as part of the weekly photo prompt challenge.
That unbroken series of posts came to a halt when I fell seriously ill and felt that I could no longer commit to collating, reblogging and commenting on the very many posts that came in each week.
However, the prompt has been missed and many people have asked if we could start it again, but with a few small differences, in case I am not well enough to set up reblogs and round-up posts.
I can only say, well, okay, let’s see how it goes…
So… with a few small differences, we are back…
Each week, on a Thursday morning, I will post a photograph from my archive along with a prompt word.
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Sadly in today’s current tiered system and social distancing, HUGS are not really on the menu. Shame really as the feel good factor is off the charts, and we all need a bit of human contact sometimes.
There is nothing to stop you hugging somebody by proxy, or participating in a Zoom group and doing this:
Stand the necessary 2 meters (and more if you wish) from the To-be-Hugged.
Wrap your arms around yourself (as in picture below), rub your hands up and down your back as far as you can reach and rock from side to side.
So, Happy Hug Day everyone.
The problem with beautiful falling snow is the need to shovel it from sidewalks, driveways, and car windshields. It is one winter task I relish, especially when I can complete the work in nighttime silence. I tried, stayed up late in hopeful anticipation, but when I fell asleep in the morning’s small hours, it was still snowing.
The alarm slowly penetrated my hazy dreams. With reluctance, I let them slip from my mind to meet the cold, bright morning. Frigid might be a better word since my thermometer read a whopping sixteen degrees as I pulled on a hat, jacket, gloves, and sunglasses to start my day. A little voice told me to dig out my time-tested Icelandic wool coat, and I paid for my laziness with bone-cracking chills for the duration of the required work hours.
All was not lost. A steamy hot pot of Good Hope Vanilla tea…
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