Mum would have been 66 today. Knowing her, she would have been having a few friends and family around to the house to enjoy one of her amazing spreads. There would have been an array of sandwiches, savouries, snacks, cheeses and puddings to devour. And it would all have been washed down by a stiff gin and lemonade.
It's hard to believe that it's now ten years since we lost her. The pain is no longer as raw and savage. The hurt has faded to a dull ache and one that doens't always make itself known on a daily basis. But it is there nontheless.
I shall be visiting the Crem this morning with one of mum's favourite books. I intend to sit in the sun (yes the yellow orb has decided to grace us with his presence) reading by her plaque. I will probably have a little chat too.
But of course, it's not the same as the daily contact, phone calls etc that you get from the living. I miss her dreadfully. And especially during the times when I need to make important decisions. Her advice was always sound; well thought out, practical, rational.
I need her advice now. I need her to reassure me that everything will be ok.
So Happy Birthday mum. I'll be enjoying a gin in your honour tonight. xx
Thursday 25 August 2011
Monday 22 August 2011
The Creative Mind
Hello again,
I haven't blogged in ages!!
Life has been quite exciting, fun, enjoyable and laughter filled of late. And if I'm totally honest that's why the writing has died off. It's funny isn't it? Some people only find their creative pen when they are in some kind of emotional upheaval. The other day I was taking part in a topical debate with someone who we'll call the Funky Drummer. I pointed out that sometimes artists, musicians, writers etc seem to have an optimum time in their lives when they really create from the heart. Once life becomes more peachy, the anger, frustration, upset, depression and downright need to have something to occupy or save them lessens and this is reflected in their work.
Look at Queen I told him: They wrote some truly brilliant stuff when they were young, skint and being ripped off by managers and labels alike. Nobody wanted to take them seriously. And yet it is the earlier material that stands out against the later songs. Songs that were written in the lap of luxury. Songs that were written in the comfort of knowing they need never work again. Complacency and contentment are things we all strive for but they don't always lead to the most creative output of our lives.
The Funky Drummer is a musician himself and has so far written two very different but good CD's. He's currently working on his third album. I hope he achieves his end but part of me is sad. Our relationship was going soundly. No rows or arguments, great fun and laughter, days out, camping trips away, all quite tickity boo! Part of me is very aware that in order to finish his third album being in a happy relationship was not conducive to this process.
Note to self - musicians are probably not the best people to have meaningful relationships with. Musicians are very driven and focused on achieving that ultimate musical high. Deep down I have to face the fact that I am holding him back. As he battles with feelings that are going to suffocate him if he doesn't free them I have to do the hardest thing - walk away. There's been no argument, no hissy hysterics, no name calling or back biting. As break ups go it's terribly civilised. It's been more than great while it lasted. He has achieved the impossible - made me feel good about myself, made me feel gorgeous and attractive, made me laugh constantly, made me enjoy life. He is warm, kind, generous, funny, sexy, smart, attractive, caring, creative. So why are we breaking up I hear you ask? Well that's the million dollar question! It's just not right at the moment I need to give him space and time to find the words within him and set them free. If we are meant to be, we are meant to be! And our paths may well cross again. But either way, he has honestly restored my faith in men. - just not in musicians!
And so as I prepare myself for the life of singledom once again (it really is getting quite boring) I find that my creative voice is returning too. My need to spill words onto a page is almost overwhelming. But it has to be said given the choice between a lifetime of singledom or a lifetime of happiness I know which I'd take. And that is exactly why I am not a musician!
And so it begins again....
I haven't blogged in ages!!
Life has been quite exciting, fun, enjoyable and laughter filled of late. And if I'm totally honest that's why the writing has died off. It's funny isn't it? Some people only find their creative pen when they are in some kind of emotional upheaval. The other day I was taking part in a topical debate with someone who we'll call the Funky Drummer. I pointed out that sometimes artists, musicians, writers etc seem to have an optimum time in their lives when they really create from the heart. Once life becomes more peachy, the anger, frustration, upset, depression and downright need to have something to occupy or save them lessens and this is reflected in their work.
Look at Queen I told him: They wrote some truly brilliant stuff when they were young, skint and being ripped off by managers and labels alike. Nobody wanted to take them seriously. And yet it is the earlier material that stands out against the later songs. Songs that were written in the lap of luxury. Songs that were written in the comfort of knowing they need never work again. Complacency and contentment are things we all strive for but they don't always lead to the most creative output of our lives.
The Funky Drummer is a musician himself and has so far written two very different but good CD's. He's currently working on his third album. I hope he achieves his end but part of me is sad. Our relationship was going soundly. No rows or arguments, great fun and laughter, days out, camping trips away, all quite tickity boo! Part of me is very aware that in order to finish his third album being in a happy relationship was not conducive to this process.
Note to self - musicians are probably not the best people to have meaningful relationships with. Musicians are very driven and focused on achieving that ultimate musical high. Deep down I have to face the fact that I am holding him back. As he battles with feelings that are going to suffocate him if he doesn't free them I have to do the hardest thing - walk away. There's been no argument, no hissy hysterics, no name calling or back biting. As break ups go it's terribly civilised. It's been more than great while it lasted. He has achieved the impossible - made me feel good about myself, made me feel gorgeous and attractive, made me laugh constantly, made me enjoy life. He is warm, kind, generous, funny, sexy, smart, attractive, caring, creative. So why are we breaking up I hear you ask? Well that's the million dollar question! It's just not right at the moment I need to give him space and time to find the words within him and set them free. If we are meant to be, we are meant to be! And our paths may well cross again. But either way, he has honestly restored my faith in men. - just not in musicians!
And so as I prepare myself for the life of singledom once again (it really is getting quite boring) I find that my creative voice is returning too. My need to spill words onto a page is almost overwhelming. But it has to be said given the choice between a lifetime of singledom or a lifetime of happiness I know which I'd take. And that is exactly why I am not a musician!
And so it begins again....
Thursday 17 February 2011
Pebble Culture
This is a strange little phenomenon that only women get - apparently. I however, believe that men have a soft spot for it too...they just won't admit it.
For those of you not in the know, Pebble Culture is the thing that transforms a house into a home. It's the nick-nacks, art work, cushions, candles, rugs, throws and other stuff that add to the atmosphere and ambiance of a place.
I am the first to admit I love a bit of Pebble Culture. Now don't get me wrong, my house is not littered with dust gathering ornaments. Nor is it awash with cuddly toys and fluffy things. I have my share of Art work (mostly music or travel related) and I have a few cushions. But my main nod to the Pebble Culture is candles - I do love a good candle! My sitting room alone boasts around 15. All artfully arranged around the fire place. My dining room holds another 10 or so. My bedroom has 3. In this modern world where lights can be dimmed by a clap of a hand or voice control there is something quite primitive and homely about a simple candle that is lit by a match (even I draw the line at a tinderbox!).
Words spoken by candlelight can mean something totally different to the exact same words spoken under electric light. Listening to an album by candlelight can change the whole sound and mood of the music without even touching an instrument.
Candlelight is a powerful thing. It can inspire confidences, romantic gestures, whispered secrets, shared dreams, a sense of cosiness, or pure and simply relaxation.
If you ask most men in company if they like candles they normally grunt, shake their heads and mutter something about burning money. And yet these same men will be the first to light a candle or 5 in the winter months or fill the garden with tea lights in the summer.
Most of my ex-boyfriends have been very comfortable with the idea of Pebble Culture and the odd one or two have even had to be reigned in by me (shocking isn't it) to avoid spending all of the food budget on tea lights and soft lighting!
So the next time a bloke tries to convince you that Pebble Culture is just for women - don't' believe them! And put that extra Yankee Candle in the trolley for good measure!
For those of you not in the know, Pebble Culture is the thing that transforms a house into a home. It's the nick-nacks, art work, cushions, candles, rugs, throws and other stuff that add to the atmosphere and ambiance of a place.
I am the first to admit I love a bit of Pebble Culture. Now don't get me wrong, my house is not littered with dust gathering ornaments. Nor is it awash with cuddly toys and fluffy things. I have my share of Art work (mostly music or travel related) and I have a few cushions. But my main nod to the Pebble Culture is candles - I do love a good candle! My sitting room alone boasts around 15. All artfully arranged around the fire place. My dining room holds another 10 or so. My bedroom has 3. In this modern world where lights can be dimmed by a clap of a hand or voice control there is something quite primitive and homely about a simple candle that is lit by a match (even I draw the line at a tinderbox!).
Words spoken by candlelight can mean something totally different to the exact same words spoken under electric light. Listening to an album by candlelight can change the whole sound and mood of the music without even touching an instrument.
Candlelight is a powerful thing. It can inspire confidences, romantic gestures, whispered secrets, shared dreams, a sense of cosiness, or pure and simply relaxation.
If you ask most men in company if they like candles they normally grunt, shake their heads and mutter something about burning money. And yet these same men will be the first to light a candle or 5 in the winter months or fill the garden with tea lights in the summer.
Most of my ex-boyfriends have been very comfortable with the idea of Pebble Culture and the odd one or two have even had to be reigned in by me (shocking isn't it) to avoid spending all of the food budget on tea lights and soft lighting!
So the next time a bloke tries to convince you that Pebble Culture is just for women - don't' believe them! And put that extra Yankee Candle in the trolley for good measure!
Thursday 3 February 2011
Her Name is Rio
I've booked my tickets for Duran Duran!
As you know, my musical taste is pretty eclectic (that's putting it mildly) and Duran Duran nestle quite happily between Nick Drake and Elbow in my vast collection.
I love the early 80's music. It reminds me of my early childhood and early teenage hood. Like most scratty 10 year olds I adorned my face with stripes ala Adam and the Ants, I wore awful rah-rah skirts and legwarmers like Bananarama and I experimented with make up in the unfortunate 80's style of Toyah and Cyndi Lauper!
But one thing I never got involved in was the mass rivalry between Spandau Ballet fans and the Duran Duran fans. I never saw the need. As far as I was concerned they were both brilliant! And unlike some of the songs from that era, their music has stood the test of time. I still enjoy playing their albums. I still enjoy singing along.
If I'm totally honest I have a real soft spot for the early 80's 'New Romantic' movement. One of my all time favourite driving tunes is Gary Newman's Cars. Awesome song! Great intro, throbbing bass, the only way to play it is loud! Spandau toured last year and stupidly I missed out on getting tickets so there was no way I was making the same mistake with the Durans. As of 8.00 this morning my tickets were secured and the leg warmers and hideous pink visor are once more on standby!
As you know, my musical taste is pretty eclectic (that's putting it mildly) and Duran Duran nestle quite happily between Nick Drake and Elbow in my vast collection.
I love the early 80's music. It reminds me of my early childhood and early teenage hood. Like most scratty 10 year olds I adorned my face with stripes ala Adam and the Ants, I wore awful rah-rah skirts and legwarmers like Bananarama and I experimented with make up in the unfortunate 80's style of Toyah and Cyndi Lauper!
But one thing I never got involved in was the mass rivalry between Spandau Ballet fans and the Duran Duran fans. I never saw the need. As far as I was concerned they were both brilliant! And unlike some of the songs from that era, their music has stood the test of time. I still enjoy playing their albums. I still enjoy singing along.
If I'm totally honest I have a real soft spot for the early 80's 'New Romantic' movement. One of my all time favourite driving tunes is Gary Newman's Cars. Awesome song! Great intro, throbbing bass, the only way to play it is loud! Spandau toured last year and stupidly I missed out on getting tickets so there was no way I was making the same mistake with the Durans. As of 8.00 this morning my tickets were secured and the leg warmers and hideous pink visor are once more on standby!
Sunday 30 January 2011
The Cavern
I spent last night in Mathew Street in Liverpool. This is of course 'where it all started'. The mass hysteria that would follow the Fab Four for the rest of the lives began in this narrow street. It also launched many other famous names Lulu, Cilla, The Merseybeats, to name a few.
Back in the day (according to regular Cavern goers my mum and Aunt), the street was a dirty, rat infested, squalid and altogether not very attractive part of town. The narrow pavements were raised and you balanced along them trying not to plunge into the general mess and yuck on the road.
Thankfully the rats have gone and these days, Mathew Street is pedestrianised with clean flagstones and glass fronted shops. Starting at the bottom end you pass a plethora of 70's, 80's and 'hip and trendy' places. A few short steps takes you past The Grapes (where the Fab Four consumed many a drink), Lennon's Bar and the original entrance to the Cavern which has taken on an almost shrine like quality. Eventually you find yourself at the top of Mathew Street with a choice - head left and down the stairs to the Cavern Club or head right down the stairs to the Cavern Pub. Neither will disappoint.
The Cavern Pub and Club are still regular hosts to a range of bands new and old. The names that have graced the tiny stage in the Cavern Club are remarkable. To all musicians, it is like the MECCA of venues. To play on this hallowed stage is something to aspire to.
Realistically, the venues are small, poky, dark and in the Cavern Club the view is obscured on a regular basis by the arches. In the summer the heat is intense and the walls run with condensation. In the winter it is a bit of a draft ridden tunnel. And yet....this building is part of our musical heritage.
As an avid fan of live music, I still get a buzz from watching bands perform here. Which is stupid really because the Cavern Club today is just a replica of the one they pulled down a mere 200 foot to the right of the existing club. But despite this, the history, magic and creative energy appears to have embedded itself in these bricks too. And for a few glorious hours you can lose yourself in the music and imagine you are back in a time that kick started the musical revolution in this country. Even the rats were rocking!
Long live the Cavern!
Back in the day (according to regular Cavern goers my mum and Aunt), the street was a dirty, rat infested, squalid and altogether not very attractive part of town. The narrow pavements were raised and you balanced along them trying not to plunge into the general mess and yuck on the road.
Thankfully the rats have gone and these days, Mathew Street is pedestrianised with clean flagstones and glass fronted shops. Starting at the bottom end you pass a plethora of 70's, 80's and 'hip and trendy' places. A few short steps takes you past The Grapes (where the Fab Four consumed many a drink), Lennon's Bar and the original entrance to the Cavern which has taken on an almost shrine like quality. Eventually you find yourself at the top of Mathew Street with a choice - head left and down the stairs to the Cavern Club or head right down the stairs to the Cavern Pub. Neither will disappoint.
The Cavern Pub and Club are still regular hosts to a range of bands new and old. The names that have graced the tiny stage in the Cavern Club are remarkable. To all musicians, it is like the MECCA of venues. To play on this hallowed stage is something to aspire to.
Realistically, the venues are small, poky, dark and in the Cavern Club the view is obscured on a regular basis by the arches. In the summer the heat is intense and the walls run with condensation. In the winter it is a bit of a draft ridden tunnel. And yet....this building is part of our musical heritage.
As an avid fan of live music, I still get a buzz from watching bands perform here. Which is stupid really because the Cavern Club today is just a replica of the one they pulled down a mere 200 foot to the right of the existing club. But despite this, the history, magic and creative energy appears to have embedded itself in these bricks too. And for a few glorious hours you can lose yourself in the music and imagine you are back in a time that kick started the musical revolution in this country. Even the rats were rocking!
Long live the Cavern!
Wednesday 26 January 2011
A quick rant and rave!
Sensitivity, feeling, compassion, care and thoughtfulness seem to have different meanings to different people!
Having read one such throw away comment I am now seething. Anger and hurt and annoyance and downright pique are battling for supremacy. Which in real terms means churning stomach, the shakes and generally feeling pretty naffed off.
When you've dedicated a lot of time, energy, effort, emotion, feeling and thought in one direction and it appears to be discarded as something unimportant or to be brushed away with a casual flick of the wrist it can make you feel what the hell was I doing?
So there you go - rant over!
Having read one such throw away comment I am now seething. Anger and hurt and annoyance and downright pique are battling for supremacy. Which in real terms means churning stomach, the shakes and generally feeling pretty naffed off.
When you've dedicated a lot of time, energy, effort, emotion, feeling and thought in one direction and it appears to be discarded as something unimportant or to be brushed away with a casual flick of the wrist it can make you feel what the hell was I doing?
So there you go - rant over!
Monday 17 January 2011
Girl Friday
I have got itchy feet!
I was messaging a friend earlier and we were chatting about travelling. He asked me where was next on my wish list.
And so it began....
I want to go to India to experience the food, the madness, the craziness, the culture, the history and the excitement.
I want to go to Peru and fulfill my dream of walking the Inca Trail.
I want to go to Cuba before it is spoilt too much and before all the crazy and gorgeous vintage cars are shipped out and replaced by shiny new mercs.
I want to go to Brazil and Argentina and learn to tango. And the list goes on!
So far, I have a week in the South of France to look forward to in April. It will be lovely but it's a return to somewhere I've already been. And the excitement and slight nervousness that goes with arriving in a strange place will be missing.
It's fun to go new places and have no clue where anything is. I've rocked up to many places around the world with no accommodation and as long as you don't arrive there at 1am, finding somewhere to sleep has never been a problem. I like waking up in a new place, gathering the maps together and just heading out to see what is there. The most important thing to remember is your passport and Lonely Planet! With these two little things, the world is truly your oyster.
And so, I'm going to start planning a long haul trip. I'm going to start saving like mad. There's just a major dilemma to sort first....where to?
Answers on a post card please...all suggestions welcome!
I was messaging a friend earlier and we were chatting about travelling. He asked me where was next on my wish list.
And so it began....
I want to go to India to experience the food, the madness, the craziness, the culture, the history and the excitement.
I want to go to Peru and fulfill my dream of walking the Inca Trail.
I want to go to Cuba before it is spoilt too much and before all the crazy and gorgeous vintage cars are shipped out and replaced by shiny new mercs.
I want to go to Brazil and Argentina and learn to tango. And the list goes on!
So far, I have a week in the South of France to look forward to in April. It will be lovely but it's a return to somewhere I've already been. And the excitement and slight nervousness that goes with arriving in a strange place will be missing.
It's fun to go new places and have no clue where anything is. I've rocked up to many places around the world with no accommodation and as long as you don't arrive there at 1am, finding somewhere to sleep has never been a problem. I like waking up in a new place, gathering the maps together and just heading out to see what is there. The most important thing to remember is your passport and Lonely Planet! With these two little things, the world is truly your oyster.
And so, I'm going to start planning a long haul trip. I'm going to start saving like mad. There's just a major dilemma to sort first....where to?
Answers on a post card please...all suggestions welcome!
Sunday 16 January 2011
January Blues
When they were giving out exciting, fun filled, warm and enjoyable months January was the winner of the booby prize!
It is cold, dark, damp, grey, miserable and feels like the longest month ever! The months running up to Christmas are full of light, energy and festivals (everything from Bonfire Night to Diwali and Hanukkah and of courser Christmas). January is occasionally blessed with Chinese New Year but it's not a guarantee!
And lets be honest this January (for me anyway) has got off to a less than marvellous start. But I like to think that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. My God I must be as strong as the Hulk in that case!
So for the remaining couple of weeks of January I am going to do my best to make it as enjoyable, fun and colourful as possible. I draw the line at adding warm as weather control is beyond this little witch's capabilities....
Right then January 2011....let's see what you have to offer now. And it better be good!
It is cold, dark, damp, grey, miserable and feels like the longest month ever! The months running up to Christmas are full of light, energy and festivals (everything from Bonfire Night to Diwali and Hanukkah and of courser Christmas). January is occasionally blessed with Chinese New Year but it's not a guarantee!
And lets be honest this January (for me anyway) has got off to a less than marvellous start. But I like to think that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. My God I must be as strong as the Hulk in that case!
So for the remaining couple of weeks of January I am going to do my best to make it as enjoyable, fun and colourful as possible. I draw the line at adding warm as weather control is beyond this little witch's capabilities....
Right then January 2011....let's see what you have to offer now. And it better be good!
Thursday 13 January 2011
Not Good
It's hard to come face to face with your human frailty's. And this evening I came smack bang up and personal with mine.
As I've mentioned before, watching someone die from cancer is a horrific thing. There very soul is drained from them before your eyes. Their body becomes a shell that vaguely resembles the one you knew before the disease took hold.
Unfortunately I have had to watch my mum and grandma being eaten by this dreadful illness.
And now this disease is back in my life. Taking another person, another soul, another life.
I went to visit the person in question tonight. There was the familiar building with the truly amazing staff. There were the familiar wires, morphine drips, motorised bed, hand sanitiser and medical stuff.
And there in the bed, was the familiar face of cancer: puffed up with drugs, dry mouth, hallucinations, jerking, spasms, moments of lucid talk followed by acute exhaustion.
And as I sat there I made a decision that exposed my human failings. I've decided I can't go back again! I can't sit and watch another person fighting for breath, fighting to stay alive and ultimately losing the battle. I can't find the required strength within me to do this again.
And I feel awful because of it. I feel selfish because I'm putting my needs first. I wish I could go and do the cheery chat, wiping the fevered brow, maintaining a flow of inane smalltalk in a vain attempt to cling onto some kind of normality. But I just can't.
It brings back too many memories. It brings back too much hurt and pain. Pain that I have dealt with over the years but which still emerges from its little box to scare me. And I just don't have the resilience to face this pain at the moment. It's too hard.
So there we are....face to face with my fear. And I've let it win!
As I've mentioned before, watching someone die from cancer is a horrific thing. There very soul is drained from them before your eyes. Their body becomes a shell that vaguely resembles the one you knew before the disease took hold.
Unfortunately I have had to watch my mum and grandma being eaten by this dreadful illness.
And now this disease is back in my life. Taking another person, another soul, another life.
I went to visit the person in question tonight. There was the familiar building with the truly amazing staff. There were the familiar wires, morphine drips, motorised bed, hand sanitiser and medical stuff.
And there in the bed, was the familiar face of cancer: puffed up with drugs, dry mouth, hallucinations, jerking, spasms, moments of lucid talk followed by acute exhaustion.
And as I sat there I made a decision that exposed my human failings. I've decided I can't go back again! I can't sit and watch another person fighting for breath, fighting to stay alive and ultimately losing the battle. I can't find the required strength within me to do this again.
And I feel awful because of it. I feel selfish because I'm putting my needs first. I wish I could go and do the cheery chat, wiping the fevered brow, maintaining a flow of inane smalltalk in a vain attempt to cling onto some kind of normality. But I just can't.
It brings back too many memories. It brings back too much hurt and pain. Pain that I have dealt with over the years but which still emerges from its little box to scare me. And I just don't have the resilience to face this pain at the moment. It's too hard.
So there we are....face to face with my fear. And I've let it win!
Sunday 9 January 2011
Unwanted Guest
I feel AWFUL!
A few weeks ago I was diagnosed with vertigo. I know that sounds bizarre. And ironically enough in my real world I am scared of being up too high. If I feel unsafe my mind whirls and I feel dizzy. But I never expected to experience that when standing on the ground. After all, I'm only 5 ft 4 (well 5 ft 3 and 3/4's if I'm totally honest).
But that is just what my life has been like since the end of September. The odd dizzy spell which I put down to low sugars developed into full blown vertigo or Labyrinthitus to give it the correct name. Basically this means that I feel dizzy, wobbly, drunk, anxious, nauseous, weak, exhausted and downright unwell.
I was signed off for 2 weeks before Christmas following a trip to the emergency doctor. I am a terrible patient. I am not used to being ill. I'm not used to having to stay in bed or on the sofa doing nothing. I am not used to feeling so weak and reliant upon others. So as you can imagine the last few weeks have been less than a walk in the park. More like a bloody big slog across the Sahara!
I spent the two weeks trying to follow doctors orders and did remain on the sofa for several days. My body didn't give me much choice as my eyelids would just droop of their own accord if forced into unwanted activity.
I naively thought that 2 weeks would sort me out. But here I am nearly a month later still feeling rubbish. I've just spent a lovely weekend with my brother in Yorkshire. And all I could manage in way of entertainment was to fall asleep on his sofa for most of yesterday.
I know he is worried about me. If I'm honest, I am too. I guess 2011 needs to be the year when I start putting me first. No more miss nice guy. No more running round after everyone else.
And so I'm signing out and taking my rightful place....on the sofa!
A few weeks ago I was diagnosed with vertigo. I know that sounds bizarre. And ironically enough in my real world I am scared of being up too high. If I feel unsafe my mind whirls and I feel dizzy. But I never expected to experience that when standing on the ground. After all, I'm only 5 ft 4 (well 5 ft 3 and 3/4's if I'm totally honest).
But that is just what my life has been like since the end of September. The odd dizzy spell which I put down to low sugars developed into full blown vertigo or Labyrinthitus to give it the correct name. Basically this means that I feel dizzy, wobbly, drunk, anxious, nauseous, weak, exhausted and downright unwell.
I was signed off for 2 weeks before Christmas following a trip to the emergency doctor. I am a terrible patient. I am not used to being ill. I'm not used to having to stay in bed or on the sofa doing nothing. I am not used to feeling so weak and reliant upon others. So as you can imagine the last few weeks have been less than a walk in the park. More like a bloody big slog across the Sahara!
I spent the two weeks trying to follow doctors orders and did remain on the sofa for several days. My body didn't give me much choice as my eyelids would just droop of their own accord if forced into unwanted activity.
I naively thought that 2 weeks would sort me out. But here I am nearly a month later still feeling rubbish. I've just spent a lovely weekend with my brother in Yorkshire. And all I could manage in way of entertainment was to fall asleep on his sofa for most of yesterday.
I know he is worried about me. If I'm honest, I am too. I guess 2011 needs to be the year when I start putting me first. No more miss nice guy. No more running round after everyone else.
And so I'm signing out and taking my rightful place....on the sofa!
Sunday 2 January 2011
2011
New Year! A time to look back at all that has gone before and focus on what lies ahead.
It's fair to say that over the years I have had some truly great New Years. Others have been less than impressive and some have been downright nightmarish!!
This years falls somewhere between nightmare and less than impressive. Actually, if I'm honest, this New Year actually wins the award for top three least enjoyable.
Two weeks ago, I had everything I wanted, desired, dreamed of and needed. And now on the brink of a year that had promised to hold so much it is fast turning into the year that will bring sadness, hurt and heartache.
So hurrah for 2011. So far you have failed spectacularly to inspire me with either hope, joy or inspiration.
I can only hope, that once more through sheer effort of will, determination and support of my good friends it cann be turned around. It won't be due to lack of effort on my part.
Let's raise a glass to 2011, so far rubbish but hopefully with better things to come......
It's fair to say that over the years I have had some truly great New Years. Others have been less than impressive and some have been downright nightmarish!!
This years falls somewhere between nightmare and less than impressive. Actually, if I'm honest, this New Year actually wins the award for top three least enjoyable.
Two weeks ago, I had everything I wanted, desired, dreamed of and needed. And now on the brink of a year that had promised to hold so much it is fast turning into the year that will bring sadness, hurt and heartache.
So hurrah for 2011. So far you have failed spectacularly to inspire me with either hope, joy or inspiration.
I can only hope, that once more through sheer effort of will, determination and support of my good friends it cann be turned around. It won't be due to lack of effort on my part.
Let's raise a glass to 2011, so far rubbish but hopefully with better things to come......
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