Stan fingered his CAMERA with a feeling almost of disbelief. He had only ever had a very basic camera before, but now he had got a posh new one, state of the art. Complete with telephoto lense.

It was the birds that had done it. The Little Owls. Very rare birds. But they always came yearly to an isolated spot just outside a village. At first, hardly anyone knew they were there, but gradually the word spread, and after that, the tiny narrow road was full of people from all over England, all looking for the Little Owls, hoping to get a glimpse, and maybe even a photograph or two.

Sometimes a Little Owl would come and perch on a post by the roadside, and everyone rushed to try and get a photo of this rare bird. That was what decided Stan. He would never have a chance like this again. And so, he purchased for himself this state of the art camera.

The Sunday after he got the camera, there he was, on the little country road, waiting for the Little Owl to appear. In his bag he had his sandwiches, all nicely wrapped in tin FOIL, for he knew it would be an all day job.

Then, suddenly, there it was. The Little Owl, perching on the post. Like everyone else, Stan rushed to try and get a photo. But unlike the others, he was in a wheelchair, and he had problems in the crush. Until someone realised what was happening, and shouted to everyone,

“SHIFT, you lot. There is a guynin a wheelchair here. Let him in.” And gradually everyone moved a little to make a space for him.

Stan got the photo of a lifetime that day.

After that, the farmer cut down all the hedges and the vegetation and cultivated the field, and the Little Owls that had been going there for years never went again. Their habitat had been destroyed.


Wishing everyone who celebrates Easter a Very Happy Easter despite the circumstances.  And a very Happy Sunday to those that don’t.

it feels odd to be using the word “Happy” in the circumstances we are in, but I do hope and pray that we can all find a glimmer of light some place today.  I hope and pray that you all find a little happiness today.

Lots of love to everyone

lorraine ❤️❤️❤️

Golden Visitor


In wllow tree gold, red mask

Darting eloquent


For those with impaired vision, this is a goldfinch sitting in our corkscrew willow tree.  He is looking towards us, with the typical red mask on his face, and gold stripes  on his wings  with black and white feathers on the end.  He never sits there for very long, but darts around all the time.




Every morning she got a TREAT. She knew exactly where the treat cupboard was. One day she had a VICTORY. She found out how to open the cupboard. She took out the meaty treats, undid the packet, and ate them all. Then she saw the look on her master’s face. It was AWFUL. Then, suddenly, it broke into a smile, then a laugh. She went up to him looking guilty and he wagged his finger at her telling her never to do that again. But of  course, he knew she would now that she knew how to open the cupboard door.



They knew Amy in the BANK and it was a good job that they did. She had been going to that particular bank for years, usually with her mother, but now her mother was dead. Everyone used to joke that Mum would go on until she reached her bi-centennial. She was a tough old bird, and seemed invincible. But her illness offered a great CHALLENGE to her. Inside, she often felt fearful and despairing despite the bravado. But she had been brought up not to CRY.

Sue and Ray used to take her out before she became too ill to go. Sometimes they would take her to the ESTUARY where the mighty river went out to the sea. It was a magical place in the evenings, with the most glorious sunsets. Sue and Ray often took their dogs there too, and they had great FUN. Though the dogs too were getting elderly now, and were quite happy just to stay in the GARDEN. Life was good for Sue and ray, but itwas not all HARMONY. They had their HUMDRUM days when life was tedious, and their tempers became a bit fractured. But usually Sue was able to raise a LAUGH in some way, that broke the atmosphere.

Amy, her sister, was a bit of a LONE character but the MANAGEMENT of the bank knew her well, and all her little foibles. She had a very bad MEMORY and it made her life very precarious. One day her mother had wanted a NEEDLE to do some embroidery, and had asked Amy to purchase a PACKET whilst in town, but she had forgotten, and her mother descended into the most intense anger. Amy often felt as if she was up the creek without a PADDLE. But it was banks and money that she had a PHOBIA about. It had been terrible when she was learning to play the oboe as ankind of distraction from her daily life. She needed that, and she had always been musical. That was the one gift that she did have, and the oboe had always fascinated her with its ability to produce long, sonorous notes. But it was the REED that was the problem. The reeds were always breaking, and they were very expensive, and so she was forever having to go to the bank to draw money out.

With her three cleaning jobs Amy was on a tight SCHEDULE. Somehow or other she had to try and care for her ailing mother in between going to her jobs. It was a very hard task, and she had to THINK very hard before even going on a TRIP to the shops. Her mother would often yell and scream at her if she did not get things right.

But now, her mother was dead. And Amy went into the ban as usual one day, her mobile phone having frozen. In tears, she explained to the woman on the counter what had happened, and the Manager was fetched, who very kindly cared for Amy, knowing that her mother had just died, and fixed her mobile for her.


REPOST – Wishing I ciuld go and sit on that hill again

On the hill I heard the words “Home at last”
Present and future joined with the past
This was the place I always called home
Throughout the years when forced to roam
Above me the sky so vast

Over me now a spell was cast
So many years have gone so fast
I remembered when I walked alone
On the hill

Many more this way have passed
Their destinations with mine amassed
A horse will pull me when I’m gone
Written then on my gravestone
These cherished words “Home at last”
On the hill

#FOWC. Ship. The Brief Case.

FOWC with Fandango — Ship

It was 2 o’ clock in the afternoon, and there we were on a hot sumner’s day, sitting on the sand dunes waving a SHIP off as it went by, out on the estuary. We had been banned from going to the dock to see him off, much as we wanted to. As we waved, I broke into deep sobs. “He” was my cousin. He was leaving our country for another, to start a new life, under the saddest of circumstances. Just that morning, he had gone to my mother in the kitchen and said,

“Did my mother love me?”

My mother, his aunt, replied, with fingers crossed behind her back,

“Yes, she loved you very much.”

This could not have been further from the truth. Her sister, Dora, had had Ron when she was only 17, in the 1950’s, when there were still airmen based on the local airfield. He was the result of a one night stand. Dora had wanted to give the child up for adoption, but her mother insisted that the child was their blood, and that she and her husband, a farmer, would bring him up as their own son.

Life was good on the farm, and Ron had lots of friends in the village, but was not close to anyone as he was a bit of a loner. He didn’t like to get close to anyone. He felt different to all the other lads, as his grandparents were quite old. He always had to have the most modern, fashionable clothes, and he was always immaculately dressed, maybe to make up for not having parents. Maybe to make up for some kind of hole he had inside of him.

He did marry, twice, and it was his second marriage that ruined his life, and he had to escape the country. Never a good judge of character, he married someone who was only after his money, and she took him for every penny he had got, then took his inheritance that he got from his grandmother. She continued to ruin him and his name in various other ways, using his name, spending money that did not exist. The end result was that Ron had a lot of people after him, and he ended up with a virtual breakdown. He was a chain smoking nervous wreck, emotionally un-equipped to deal with any of it. His only option, as he saw it, was to leave the country and try to make a new life elsewhere.

We knew not exactly where he was going that afternoon. But he left his brief case behind, with a combination lock on it. It was left with my mother for safekeeping. He never came back for it. That was thirty years ago. Every Christmas we hoped and prayed that he would make contact, but he never did. My mother died just before Christmas, and the brief case was passed on to me. It sits beside me as I type. A sad reminder.



One day I will see faces
And know the sum of it all
Receive in time the graces
That love for me embraces
Whatever are the places
That on the fresh wind call
One day I will see faces
And know the sum of it all


In village home the birds still sing
For they all know that it is Spring
Beside the beauteous rowan tree
Where once I sat within its lea
I wish I too could take to wing

Oh to escape this deadly thing
Fly in the sky pure joy to bring
Hear once again the church bells ring
In village home

I ride again on the big swing
In fairground bright such fun within
Bright stars that twinkle in night sky
While the big swing takes me so high
Those days were good I had my fling
In village home





The one thing that we do know that is certain is that none of us will reach our BI CENTENNIAL. The question is, would we want to? Sometimes life is such a CHALLENGE that our tree score years and ten is enough. As we get older, often, life is not much FUN.

However, I would like to go on living for a long time because I am nosey. I want to see what happens next. So maybe yes, maybe I would want to see my bi centennial, but I would wish to be in much better health, and not disabled so I could enjoy it. How about you?



Once upon a time there were some sillyhoppers. They loved to sillyhop around, but there were a few people who didn’t like them sillyhopping. They got all over the pavements and the grass and everything and everyone callised them a damned nuisance. But nothing would stop the sillyhoppers from sillyhopping around. They were too full of the joyikins of life. Even if lawikins were passied and rulikins made they would never be able to stop sillyhopping because it was in their blood.

But a byelaw was passied, and it said that all sillyhopping must stop forthwith. And if anyone broke the byelaw they would be finised. But the sillyhoppers had no monies anyway, and they still sillyhopped around.

In the end all the sillyhoppers ended up in prisonikins for non payment of finikins. But they still didn’t stop sillyhopping. In fact, they got better and better at it, and one night they all sillyhopped right over the prison wallikins, and they all shoutedb“Ooooh,” and “Aaaaaah,” and sillyhopped right down the street.


#FOWC. Wrangle

FOWC with Fandango — Wrangle

Joan was always a good one for a WRANGLE. However, when the Angel of Death appeared it was more of a wrangle than usual. She had not exactly done what she was meant to do on the earth, but she told him that if he let her stay she would stop throwing televisions out of windows and singing in six different languages in the police station. She promised to sing six languages instead. And he agreed to let her stay on the earth, at least for the time being.



I used to live not far from Leek in the U.K. such a happy place to be. My heart aches to be back there, and doing what I did then.

Leek has a wonderful market – or it did. With the  the decline in markets I am not sure if it will still be what it used to be. I hope it is. Can anyone tell me?

I remember so well my trips to Leek from Chapel en le Frith, over the “top.” It was a glorious drive, and not too long. Once there I would head straight for the market, and its wonderful plant stalls. Such wondrous things, they had. It never failed to perk me up.

And then there were the antique stalls. I still have a set of four plates and four cups that are amazing, though I can see them no more, and since I have been blind I think my husband has broken some of them. I guess in this present climate there are more important things than a few broken antique plates, but it still makes me sad.

Once I had looked around the outside market stalls I would proceed to the buttermarket. A most fascinating place.

Of course, there always had to be some food and drink involved, and I always went to the same place.

I used to be on a particular internet forum, and met someone who lived not too far away. We arranged to meet in this coffee shop in Leek. It was during that meeting that the woman told me that she used to steal purses, but now, she was a reformed character! Yes, my purse was still intact at the end of the meeting.

Those were good days, and I wish I could go back to them.




The sun was dying in the sky,
Reflecting on the water,
The trees turned golden in the light,
On the banks of the river’s mouth,
Everything this night was calm,
As the water ran out to the sea.

So often I’d looked at the waves of the sea,
Thrashing in the darkening sky,
My spirit then was not calm,
I was drawn towards the water,
I sensed the salt taste in my mouth,
At the dying of the light.

But now as night comes I can see light,
Calm now is the sea,
A sweeter taste is in my mouth,
A brilliance in the sky,
I am at peace looking at the water,
Within me a mystical calm.

The way I have walked has not been calm,
Deep pain obscured the light,
For so long I floundered on the rough water,
Tossed around on the sea,
Loud thundering in the sky,
A bitter taste in my mouth.

But then I tasted sweet Bread in my mouth,
All was still and calm,
Heavenly Hosts filled the sky,
All I could see was light,
I was no longer tossed on the sea,
I floated on the water.

Once from Your wounded side flowed water,
Lovesongs fell from Your mouth,
So often You’d walked beside the sea,
Made rough waters calm,
Suddenly all around was light,
Dark turned to radiance in the sky.

As the sky brightened songs were in my mouth,
The waters of the earth were calm,
The Universe was filled with light, glassy was the sea.




Dee always used to go to the BANK, every Friday regular as clockwork. They knew here there. She had been with them for years, and they were used to her little ways. Many times they had tried to persuade her to have a bank card, but she had haughtily refused, saying she would use nothing but actual money. But now, there was a crisis. I virus sweeping the world, and money was being refused in many shops. Dee was confused. Why would they not accept her money? T was as good as anybody else’s.

Dee was often unable to understand things, and needed them explained many times. But when the lady in the bank tried to explain this to her Dee really got the NEEDLE. This was the way her mother had brought her up, and she was not going to change now.

A few days later her mobile phone refused to work. It was almost as if it had frozen up. In a panic, and crying, she ran down to the bank, where the Manager took her aside and fixed her mobile phone for her. He was very kind to her, knowing that her mother had just died. Suddenly, all was HARMONY again between Dee and the bank, and she acceded to having a bank card.

The fun came when she tried to use it!

#FOWC. Contrite

FOWC with Fandango — Contrite

All that we had to do was mention half a pound of bacon and two tomatoes to her, and she immediately looked exceedingly CONTRITE. I am talking of Sherry, our rough collie dog. She was our second of many. One day we left her in the car whilst we went into a chemist’s shop, and when we returned, we could see immediately that there was an empty bacon wrapper on the back seat of the car. Additionally there were only four tomatoes instead of six in a torn open packet.

We admonished Sherry in very stern tones, and she certainly knew she had done wrong. A hangdog expression appeared on her face, and we felt quite sorry for her, but we knew we must not give in.

Ever after that, if ever we teased her by saying, “Half a pound of bacon and two tomatoes,” she would get a look of extreme contrition on her face.



“There’s an appointment going at the doctor’s,” announced Ron breathlessly as he pushed open the door of the bookshop.

Suddenly, everyone who was sitting drinking tea at the back end of the shop ran to the door, almost knocking each other over. Appointments were hard to come by, and it seemed, everyone was ill, suddenly.

Ivan watched as they all flew out of the shop, tut tutting at the mess they left behind, as he had it all to clear up. At that point, Jemima enered the shop.

“What’s the matter with them?” she asked rather grumpily.

“Oh they all reckon they’re ill suddenly,” said Ivan, “and there’s an appointment going down at the doctor’s.”

Jemima thumped heavily to the back of the shop and sat down at a table, with her shopping trolley.

“Want a cup of tea?” inquired Ivan.

“As long as it isn’t too strong,” said Jemima. “And mind there’s no lipstick on the cup.”

“Lipstick,” exclaimed Ivan. “There’s never lipstick on my cups. They get washed properly.”

“Hmmm, well you can’t be too careful,” said Jemima. “Had a piece of cake down at that Volunteer Centre the other day, and there was a piece of glass in it. Made by Maureen’s own fair hands too. How the heck she did that I’ll never know. Seems she can be Director of that place but not be able to make a simple cake.”

“Well you won’t find that here,” said Ivan. “Everyone knows what they’re doing and woe betide anyone who doesn’t do it properly.”

“Hmmm,” said Jemima. “I don’t know who that Maureen thinks she is. Went from being Receptionist to being a Director just like that. Now she’s gone all hoity toity.”

“She’s got nothing to be hoity toity about,” said Ivan. “I can remember her from when she was at school. Always in some kind of trouble she was.”

“Well that’s how it is nowadays,” said Jemima. “Seems anyone can get into anything if they butter the right people up.”

Ivan handed Jemima her tea. Just at that point the hordes came back. Or at least, it seemed like hordes.

“Old Jim got it,” said Gerald. “Reckoned he was the worst of the lot of us, and shoved in front of us all. Didn’t seem to be that much wrong with him.”

“Well you know what they say about icebergs don’t you,” said Roland. “Only an eighth of them shows above water. The other seven eighths is below. He’s a dark horse, that one.”

“Bah,” said Gerald. “Not much wrong with him on a Friday night when he gets down that Club. He’s a bit of a ladies’ man.”

Jemima sat looking grumpily at the floor. “You should all learn a bit of discipline and a few manners,” she scoffed.

“Ooh, who rattled your cage?” said Roland.

“No one,” said Jemima. “I can rattle it all by myself thankyou very much.”

Just then, the door opened, and Katia walked in. Katia was rather glamorous, and all the men looked at her.

“You’re looking a bit exotic today,” said Gerald.

“Am I?” said Katia. “I hadn’t noticed. Got any books on yoga?” she asked Ivan, flashing her glittering gold gandbag at the men.

“I’m going,” said Jemima, with a snort. “You can all get on with it.”

Jemima stomped heavily on the floor, dragging her shopping trolley along with her.


I sigh
Oh cancer why
Did you come visit me
Stay a long time then leave your marks
As bad
As you
So that I can never forget
The visit that you made
No goodbyes now
To pain

You stand
At the door wait
For your time to return
Is it now oh cancer my skin
Burns now
My throat
Closes up is this fear or you
Raping my body go
Be gone never


3TC#198. The Spider in the Bath


It was cleaning day. Jen always liked to do the bathroom really well when she cleaned for her sick sister. But she had one problem. She had a PHOBIA about moths, and there were always moths around at a certain time of the year.

Many times during a cleaning session a CRY was to be heard,

“There’s a moth.” Then there was the sound of running, and,

“I’m not going back in there.”

At this point Bill had to go into the bathroom and find and catch the moth.

One day, the usual cry arose, and Bill went into the bathroom only to find a big hairy spider in the bath.

“Aaaargh, there’s a spider,” he cried out as he ran from the bathroom.

After a few minutes of panic, everyone saw the funny side of it and began to LAUGH. But the bathroom didn’t get cleaned that day!

Sent from my iPad

#FOWC. Engine

There were always men at the farm, playing around with cars and tractors. We were used to bits and pieces of them lying around the place. Mostly they were old cars that they did up. I began young learning the language of cars, tractors, and various bits of machinery. It was quite fascinating. I soon learned that it was bad if they said,

“The big end has gone,” or “The ENGINE is knackered.” That would give rise to much doom and gloom and shaking of heads and looking down at the floor. But these were happy days and I remember them so well.



And when you can not go without
Go within
For there is no safer place to be
The cocoon of your true self
Which will always love you
And set you free
Without is full of illusions
Deceptions myriad
But within
You will find truth


Carry me
I cannot float
The waters pull me in
Deep calls to deep
I am out of my depths
For so long I swam
Against the tide
My arms flailing
Taking in water
Oh how I congratulated myself
But it was expected of me
Walking on water should be easy
Even the raging foam
But you never tried it
You never had to
Oh I did quite well you know
But now
I beg you
Carry me
I’m tired


Some doodlepops once lived under a hedgelglade. They were very pretty but sometimes it was impossible to see them because they were green. They were used to eating grubbies and insectipodes, but one day they heard that an icey creamey parloury had opened up in the villageypops. They thought it sounded fanteplastic but they had no ideary what icey creamery was.

One day they decided to go into the villageypops and find out what icey creamery was. They made sure that they ate no grubberies or  insectipodes before they went so that they had plenty of roomies for the icey creamery. They could always eat grubberies and insectipodes when they got back if icey creamery was yuk.

They ploddoped down to the villageypops in happity mode, singing songes on their way. Lots of cars went past them and the peoplodes in them wondered what a gang of doodlepops was doing walking along the footie path. But all agreed that they looked very happity.

Soon the doodlepops reached the icey creamery parloury but there was a hugey cuey waiting to buy the icey creamery. Peoplodes were coming past eating hugey mountains on top of cornetties of all different colours. Everyone looked very happity. There were big peoplodes and little kiddiwinks as well. But all were happity. Some of the little kiddiwinks had it in their hairikins and the doodlepops said,

“Oooh, look. Icey creamery shampooey.”

Soon they reached the head of the cuey and became mesmeryised . There were so many flavouries and colours to choose from, but because they were green they decided to have green icey creamerie so that nothing clashed with anything. So they ordered green icey creameries that had little brown bits in and they were told It was mint choc chip. When they tasted it they all shouted “Oooooh” and “Aaaaaah,” and their headikins were nearly blowised off.

So happity were the doodlepops that they decided never to eat grubbies and insectipodes again.



Susie was getting used to her new life with Jim. She had thought that married life was going to be exciting, and had spent many hours before the wedding imagining things that they would do together. The reality turned out to be very different, and life was very HUMDRUM. Jim seemed to have no zest for life at all. Nothing that Susie could do changed him. He was a different person to the one he had been before they had married.

Susie began to get resentful. How was she going to live the rest of her life like this? She had always been a bit of a live wire. Into everything. The life and soul of the party type. But now, inside, she was starting to die.

One morning, something snapped inside her. She got up, started to PACK her clothes and a few personal things, and then left. Jim would now be just a MEMORY.

Sent from my iPad


It was a beautificious sunny day and all the whipperwhoppers shouted “Wheeeeeeeeee” and flappised their armies around until they nearly tookised off. They riddled and diddled and then thought “Oooooooh it would be great to go the seasidio.”

They all made their way to the trainy station and waitised on the plattiform for a trainy to come. They whippled and whoppled along the plattiform shoodling and coodling abd getting all in a frothy. Soon the trainy arrivised and they leapised onto it shoutising in gleeplop.

It didn’t take too long to get to the seasidio, and they were soon runnising and gambolling on the beachikins. The sealol was coming in, and they watchised it cheerying and singising. Oh how happy they were.  The sealol was soon ticklysying their toes and they leapised up whooping and warbling. Gigglesome they all were and everything was just wonderiful.

After that they whoodled along the front and found some fandy closs. “Ooooooooooh,” they all shoutised. “Fandy closs.”

They ate their fandy closs and then saw a chish and fip shop. “Oooooooh, chish and fips,” they shoutised. And everyone gobbled up their chish and fips before going to get the trainy home.

The whipperwhoppers never forgot their day at the seasidio, and decided to make it a tearly yip.


WOTD. Champion



She drove right past us waving her hand in the air with an evil smile on her face. It was our last contact with her.

We had met Brenda at a County Show. We were new to this game. But there she was, as we were perusing one of the stalls. It was me who started the conversation, asking her if she was there to show the rather large dog whom she had in a lead. He certainly did look handsome.

“No,” she said, “Not this time. But he’s a Champion already. I call him Champ for short.”

“Oh my,” I said. “He certainly is gorgeous.” He was a beautiful Rough Collie. Lassie type.

And that was where the friendship began. She did not live too far away from us, though she was right up in the hills, on an isolated farm. She ran the small farm single handedly. Horses were also her area of expertise. Palominos. She bred them.

Most days, after that, I would go to her farm, pick her up in my car, and we would then have lunch at another nearby farm that had diversified and opened up a small restaurant. Then we would go off and do something else of our own choosing. They were good and happy days. Champ made a friend of me and most of my clothing bore his mark as he had put muddy paw marks on me. I didn’t complain. After all, he was a Champion.

Then came the day we went to another Show. Brenda took Champ with her to show. We met up there. It is impossible to know what went wrong, for she never told us. But something had irked her, and she walked away from us in a temper.

That last wave seemed to say it all. Though we never knew exactly what it was. But I am able to say that I have met a Champion and had his muddy paw prints on me.




Julie was lost in her own world of darkness. Newly blind, she was searching for a way through. Determined to find light in her darkness she struggled and fought on. But she had begun to lose hope. Everything seemed to be against her.

One day she and her husband took a trip to the ESTUARY a few miles away. It was a place she had always loved. Here, the breeze blew on her face, reviving her soul, and she could hear the sound of the water beneath her, the waves breaking on the shingly beach. This was a place she was always drawn back to. And on this day she pictured the REED beds where the rare and elusive bitterns lived.

Suddenly, she heard the LONE call of a curlew. Her heart leapt at the sound. She knew she wwould never be disappointed in this place.


One day lots of weedlehoppers decided it would be a great idea to go to the fairigans. There would be dodgelgems, biggie dipperies, a coallerie roaster, and lots of littlerie shenannerigans as well. They anticipateried a grandi oldi time.

When they got there there were lots of oooh and aaahlids. Everything was all lightly brit up. It was so exciting.

Some of them playisd around with the dellow yucks for a while, trying to catchil one with a hooklie. Underneath was a numberibode and if you got the right numberibodes you wonnised something. No one wonnied very much but it was great funnibode gaving a ho.

At the end of the nightibol everyone went home satisified. It had been great going to the fairigans.




Our words were:
background, buns, cake, eerie, evening, handle, honesty, humour, joke, lark, mike, nose, path, piece, prank, remote, rock, silent, trash, violin, wire.

It was a very dark BACKGROUND outside the Club. Inside  Jan and Sophie were celebrating. On the table were BUNS and a CAKE. A big cake. If truth be told it all seemed a bit  EERIE really. Sophie should have been dead a long time ago according to the experts. But what did they know? She had terminal cancer, but she was still here, able to enjoy the EVENING. There was a Group playing the kind of music she liked, and she longed to dance. Jan was wheelchair bound, also from cancer, and she had made a decision that somehow or other, on this night she would dance. She would get a HANDLE on it somehow. Maybe hold onto something with one hand as she was able to stand for a few minutes. But her prime characteristic was her HONESTY, and she had to realise that it may not happen as she had planned it. But, always a one for a bit of HUMOUR, she made a JOKE with Sophie about it and made light of the effort it would take for her to actually dance.

Jan and Sophie were two of a kind. Always up for a LARK. The Leader of the Group took the MIKE in his hand and started to announce the next song. Both Jan and Soohie started to cheer loudly, and wave an arm in the air, each touching the end of the other’s NOSE. Then they navigated a PATH through the the tables and chairs, knocking a PIECE of the cake onto the floor as they set off. But this was no time to worry about such a small matter. Both of them were thinking of a silly PRANK they had played on one of the nurses at the hospital. It was all taken in good part. Well, you have to get through cancer somehow.

The old life that they used to live seemed so REMOTE now. They had been each other’s ROCK. Often, they just sat together, SILENT. So much of the world now seemed like TRASH.

Sophie fingered the WIRE on her beautiful clear blue earring. She then took it out of her ear, and gave it to Jan.

“Here,” she said. “Take this and keep it, to remember me by when I am gone.”

Jan took it, with tears in her eyes. Both women swore that they could hear a VIOLIN playing somewhere, not too far away.


If only I could see. If only I was not sick. If only…..if only.

I wake in a morning, and try my very best to be okay. I try to use humour. I try to think of nature, I  come into WordPress to try and feel a bit more “normal.” I write stories. I write poems. I seem okay. Maybe.

But I am not. Okay I mean. I am conscious all the time that I cannot see, so there is very little way that I can relieve the monotony. I cannot walk, so I cannot go out for my permitted period of exercise. My mind goes. It just goes.

This morning I woke up almost screaming. I felt I could not go on. But there is no choice. No one even to talk to. No ine to phone. Not a person near to me.

My husband is wheelchair bound too. He is trying to look after me. But the other day he fell. From exhaustion. What happens if something happens to him?

We have a dog. Hope. We can’t even take her out in the car each afternoon and let her run in a field. We have a garden but it is not very big. And for that very reason I cannot even go and sit in my wheelchair in the garden.

I am not supposed to feel fear. But I do. I feel terrible fear. Overwhelming fear. This morning I felt as if I was going to go hysterical. But what good would thatbhave done anyway? And so I laid in bed, silently. My husband at the side of me with his very loud breathing machine on, that he has to use every night.

I felt I was going to go mad.

How are we going to get through this? It is going to be a long haul, and already I am caving in.

I am afraid my cancer has come back. There are some signs. Probably nothing. But you know what the mind is! And how would we deal with that in this climate? It was bad enough before, when things were normal. But I am not going to think about that. I cannot. I cannot afford to.

If only they would let us just go out for a ride in the car – with the windows up. For our period of exercise. But they will nott let us. Not even up the street.

And so I read of people walking their dogs. I read of people enjoying nature. And I cry.

This is my world. A world on a bed, in the darkness.

I say on a bed because I can only sit up for so long because of pain. So I stay on the bed. It is easiest for my husband. As a blind, wheelchair bound person, I cannot come to much harm like that.

I just HAD to write this. To let it out. To be honest.
Lthere wilk be those who crticise me. I know that. But where do I GET my strength? I have none left.