translate

Thursday, 19 February 2015

MY HEART TALKS TO YOU


Good day Bloggets how do I find your health and wellbeing’s today?

As for me, well, gosh, where to start? I got up with Hub this morning at seven and had the worst pain in my chest. I had it the other day too and I am thinking could it be the treadmill? Really I’m so unfit. But I have not been stupid with it I have taken it easy. Then I went back to bed. Thankfully Hub is fine with that and doesn’t expect breakfast in fact when I make him it, he complains as he can’t eat before sitting in a car/taxi for over an hour. Then I didn’t even hear him leave the house. Normally, I lay there thinking, has he got his lunch, has he remembered his mobile phone? Did he lock the doors? Is he going to be on time for work? Sometimes the taxi is ten minutes late and I have to chase them up, so we have brought the times forward by fifteen minutes so he is early most days now. But old habits dye slowly and I still stress about it. Really, I need to learn how to meditate.

 

Today I fell asleep and was woken by Hubs text to tell me he was at work safely. I couldn’t believe I had slept for over one hour? Me? In the morning before I knew all was well? Yep. The pain was still there and you know those days when you just don’t want to get out of bed? To face the same old same old. House work dishes from A, to B. What to cook for tea, and see to the dogs make sure the bird are Okay just the normal things every housewife does. But almost thirty years of it now, and before that boarding school jobs that were so archaic.

 

Oh to have a day when I could wake up without a worry and have breakfast cooked for me and to live in a mini palace without a care about cleaning and to have a cook? Make the decision of what is to eat. Or at least give me a choice? Haha. A girl can dream. I am not sure I could live like that all of the time, but one day every now and then?

 

It was so late when I got up. My Son was even up. He was downstairs and I hadn’t even heard him. I was in such a deep sleep I came downstairs and my boy told me I looked beautiful. Floorless. Hahaha. Oh gosh, really? Well, I tell you I believe in angels, and I am sure one visited me from this morning to make me sleep like that and my pain is eighty per cent gone. But then normality kicked in. I had to hunt for a card I bought a friend. It was a special card. I really struggle with birthday cards. On line is not good. So this card has disappeared. Really, I have hunted everywhere. I pulled out the couch in the conservatory. Pulled our very heavy an yet small lamp table and heavy speakers as that was where I was, when I last remembered the card. Well all the furniture out, may as well vacuum where it has been. So much for me taking it easy? But pain is still under control. I think it could be quinky dinky as I walked into a door yesterday carrying a cup, whilst stupidly drinking from it. And the cup went right in my chest by the time I jumped in shock. Oh it hurt. I must knock into things ten times a day. This is what people who can see don’t think about. It’s not just the fact we can’t see the world, ourselves or anything, it’s the pain when we hurt ourselves like dishwasher. Oh they are a blind person’s nightmare. You pull them down to fill or empty. Walk away to put things away or collect more dishes and bingo. Wack. Right into the door. I know of someone who took the door off in one collision. I know of loads of people who are scarred too with dishwashers.

 

You know when you bump into things and it really hurts, like when I bend down and bang my head off the kitchen counter or a draw half open, or the worst when I hurt the bridge of my nose and it makes that crunch sound, we can really feel sorry for ourselves. I am in a group for RP support and every day there are pictures of damaged bodies.  I never really complain but this is one reason we really can’t ever have a day without injury’s. Pain and discomfort. It’s like the evil is laughing at us, not only we have been given faulty genes, but we have to suffer in so many other ways. Well, I have to remember my angel. I wish I could meet with her. I am sure she is a her. Just a feeling I get. This is perhaps where some Bloggets close this blog and move on; well for them I shall stop and change the subject. Angels are for those who have open hearts. As for my heart, heck, really, it has been broken so many times, it’s in threads now. But still the threads work and for that I am grateful.

 

It’s raining cats and dogs here. I love the sound of the rain against my window. The birds love the worms in the garden. Well, I just hope they take their dishes away as I don’t want any in my yard thank you…

 

Our eldest girl has promised to write us a poem. I am looking forward to that, she is just well, and I honestly don’t know what word to use for her talent. In her exam last year she received an A star for English. Well I got an A for mine, but the difference between us is more than a star. So I am looking forward to that so much and my little one is making jams this week so Dear Sister Ann, one on its way for you.

 

Thirteen days before my big boys eighteenth birthday. I can tell you I have him nothing. I am so stuck. Everything I suggest he says no thanks Mum I need money for a car. Oh the car? Gosh, really, I am scared stiff as every time he has been out of late, he has had near crashes. I will be ill when it happens. His Father is a great driver, but having said that, he has had loads of crashes in his life too. So how can he be good then? Well, easy, he’s great until he loses concentration. Sadly that is teen. He’s an amazing driver but goes into a world of his own.  I feel so bad that we can’t take him out for practice. I hate myself for that. I know it’s not my fault, but still it’s a guilty feeling that my Son bless him has never ever brought up in conversation. We even make him pay for all of his lessons. I also hate that. It makes me cry. But how can I pay for him when I am not the earner. My Husband says if we pay for him, we have to pay for our girls too, I know this, and then with three children, it’s expensive. Having said that, the amount of money my Hub pays to his ex I hope she is putting money away for the girls to have those lessons. If I were getting half as much as he pays his ex from my ex I would for sure pay for teen at least some lessons. He is working so hard every hour he can and it’s being eaten up by driving lessons. Okay, he doesn’t have to take them, but every young lad does. And if the worst happens and he does have my eye disease then at least he has had some experience in driving, something I have never been able to do, well, legally anyway.

 

Bin night tonight, hahaha, Hub told me last week he looks forward to bin night. Why? Because it’s one night before the weekend. At the end of the week he gets so tired. Up just before seven and as well as his working day over two and a half hours travel. But nothing in comparison to his old job. Next week he is away for two days. Training days. Really I’m sure a waste of time, but managers have to do it. I hate those days away. I a am sure apart from it all being a waste of money, it’s an excuse for managers to mingle in a way that is not suitable for married people.

 

An aeroplane has just gone over. The cars are whizzing by on the road. But in the rare silence outside my window, I hear a single bird. Sounds like a robin. Oh the song is stunning. Like water falling from glass.  

Okay, I best get on with the day. I could write forever today and talk with you all. It’s so lovely to know you are still reading these blogs. I am still in shock about it. Over seventy thousand viewers now from over sixty countries. I just pray that one day my work will be in books. I have so much more to talk about things that would shock you and surprise you at the same time. My life story is so different to anyone’s I have heard before. My dear friend Yam wants me to write for children. I would love to write for everyone. I know you have to start somewhere, but where? I am as passionate about children’s writing as I am love stories and tragic poetry. Haha. Alright Bloggets, now then, you have a good day, do something for you. Make yourself feel pampered. Do a sin,. A sin to me is sleeping for an hour through the day. Oh I love that. I feel so guilty and naughty like a child. But at the same time it’s a great knowledge to feel like you have done something for yourself.

 

I will be back I hope you will.

No comments: