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Thursday, 27 July 2017

DIARY OF LIFE BY FIONA CUMMINGS


Good day . It’s almost the end of our working day. Boy Wonder came in from work not too happy. He has been up most mornings at half five too early to think about work. I don’t know how my Husband gets up each work day at half six.

 

I was just saying to a lovely lady on line she sounds like me. As she wrote of her day. I do the same as her, clean a room, write, lean another room and write some more. Make dinner and guess what? Write. It’s an obsession for me, but an obsession I love. I breathe through my words. I don’t know how I coped during the transition between writing in print then after losing my sight to eventually learning about the software I use now on my lap top called Jaws which enables me to write. I think the gap was about 6 years and now, to go ten days without being able to write, as that is the longest I have gone in thirteen years, almost killed me. My head is so full of life and words, conversations there’s a party going on in there. So many voices the noise is awful as if scratching my brain and the only way I can deal with life is to allow some of those voices out and let them talk on paper, or, on screens. Mad? Yep, absolutely. And I love this kind of madness though there are times when I do wish I wasn’t a writer or, never had been as once a writer, always a writer, it’s a passion. We write, or we should, because we get something out of it, whether it be to help others, help ourselves or just to live in a world of fantasy.

 

I often say my escape in life is to write. If I write a poem or short story, I can be anyone. I’m free. My writing has been for me many times therapy. I never thought the whole world though would be a part of my therapy. Yep, that’s you!

And you, sitting at your desk, glad you are here, as for you sitting back in the sun, lucky you, it’s rained all day here. I can’t complain, we have had a beautiful summer. My lovely Carrie was asking a couple of questions, Carrie, our Blogget from Canada wanted to know who was BW. Boy Wonder, my Son, he can’t be the teen any more. Sadly, he’s twenty now. She was asking about the race too, it’s the one my Son is taken part in soon I think it comes from America. Basically, you pay a fortune to get so dirty with mud and you climb up walls with water gushing down at you. You carry someone on your back for a mile/1.6klm

I think you swim too but I may be wrong. I normally am. In total, it’s 13 miles. The day he is due to do it, it’s forecast to rain.

 

Blogget Carrie also asked what is a courgette? I think she may call it a zucchini

 

Talking with my forever cheerful friend today, we got onto the subject of eyesight and if there will ever be a treatment for blindness. She said no, never. Hahaha. Thanks ever so much sighted one.

I do wonder though, as I have said before, it’s looking very unlikely that I will see in my lifetime. Only our maker can do that as scientists are too busy messing about in my opinion.   How depressing that I first heard of this camera 20 years ago and still we are trying to develop it to perfection. To me perfection is to see even to be partially sighted, not so I see shapes. I want to see the love in my dearest’s eyes or tears of joy, a smile upon a face or a hand-written birthday card. Photographs of my future Grandchildren and to be able to take them to the local park and not be worrying that a dreadful person is watching them for bad intentions. I want to watch my grandchildren at their first swimming lessons or in their school play. I missed my own child right through his life, I don’t want to be in the same place when my Grand Children come along, of course I can go to school plays/performances as I did with my Son. But I know my Son knew I was there but I couldn’t see him. At parent evenings, kids sat outside with their friends my Son came to the different teachers with me because they were too ignorant to come to me. And as for going to his nursery school to see his work? He would have to tell me what was in the books what he had drawn because the teachers just didn’t want to know. Sadly, many years later, my friends who have young children and who also can’t see, are still going through all this rubbish at school. Things have improved for disabled children but not for parents.

 

I also don’t want the worry or guilt of my Grand children having my eye disease. So, I guess I get frustrated when it comes to the speed in which we seem to not be travelling in when it comes to treatment for those who are blind.

 

OK, didn’t mean this blog to turn into a grumpy pumpy Fifi. So, I shall try to end on a lighter note.

My friend told me today about someone she knows who opened a dog grooming shop some years ago across the road from a pub. She called her shop. (Hair of the dog) She has just opened another shop called Barker and bone house. We have a furniture shop in the UK called Barker and Stonehouse. I think she is a genius.

 

 

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