What to do…

I’ve sat here, staring at the computer screen, for over an hour trying to think of what to write about this week. Actually, I’ve been trying to think of something all week.  Here’s how the thought processes go: What to do? What to do? Had a visit from an old friend, so perhaps I could write about that. Nah…boring to everyone but me. Advent starts this Sunday, I could…  But then many of my readers aren’t Christian and it’ll mean diddly-squat to them. I’ve been having flashbacks to my childhood lately, perhaps I could…nah, it’d just prove how much older I am than I’ll admit. Gosh my tinnitus is loud this morning. I could comment on the political scene but why get my blood pressure up? First candle...

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An apple a day…

I’ve always liked the American legend of Johnny Appleseed. The myth says that he strode across America randomly scattering apple seeds as he went. The truth is even better. His real name was John Chapman and, in the 1800s,  he actually planted nurseries of apple trees in several states, including Pennsylvania. He’d do it for free, wherever and whenever he felt like it. He’d give the nursery to someone else to profit from, but he’d come back every few years to tend it and give advice. He became a legend in his own lifetime; understandably so. What a lovely thing to do. Every spring I wonder if we had our own version of Johnny Appleseed here in my fair state. All along the country roads, you can see rows and rows of wild rose bushes,...

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Go on, have a laugh.

Occasionally, when I was a child  in school we were asked what we would like to be. We could list up to 3 choices. I always put 2. My first choice was: a lady. My father had a book about the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, full of photographs of the royal family, the ladies in waiting, the ceremony etc. I pictured myself in a fabulous gown, dripping with jewels and wearing a gorgeous tiara. I knew how I could make it happen: all I had to do was marry Prince Charles. I figured he’d be a fool not to have me. (Thankfully I grew out of that one.) My second choice was: a comedienne. My heroes were the Three Stooges, Abbott and Costello (the Americans, not the politicians!), Benny Hill, Red Skelton, Danny Kaye, Norman Wisdom, Charlie Brown and the girls from St...

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Good Health

While waiting to see the doc, yesterday, I had a quick flick through the magazines on offer, as you do. There was one called… Wait a minute; don’t want to get myself into trouble here. Er… Hmm… There was one called Well Being (wink wink). It had a full length shot of a glowingly healthy minor celebrity, her eyes sparkling and her pretty mouth smiling. That looks interesting, I thought, so I picked it up. Then I read the headlines and the titles of the articles inside and, suddenly, I wasn’t as confident that they had given the magazine an appropriate name. “Fasting made easy”; “the 5.2 day diet”; “the 2 day diet”; “the skip every second day diet”, and “how to lose your winter...

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Be safe out there.

First of all, please accept my apology for missing last week’s blog. For those of you who aren’t my Facebook friends, I had an accident: split my forehead open – to the bone – ; badly bruised and, I think, strained my right arm; wrenched my back and bruised my knees. Who knew going to the toilet in the dark could be so dangerous! Anyhoo, I was still feeling sick, sore and sorry for myself by the Saturday and I was still on a break from the internet. I’d look at the screen and feel woozy, so I gave up. It’s a shame because I had intended to share with you my lovely sea-side holiday. Oh well…maybe next year. I’m still sore and head-achey and a bit fed up with it all but on the plus side I now have a brilliant scar on...

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