tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10326668267551091412024-03-13T17:48:03.865-07:00Mind The Gap A-ZBrain Tumour and Breast Cancer BloggerDawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.comBlogger221125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-6655889957859883342023-08-05T06:14:00.000-07:002023-08-05T06:14:27.513-07:00Exercising my Brain <p><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It has been
an extraordinary amount of time since I last wrote a blog.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As you know I
published my social history book <i>The Last Class</i> in November 2021, well,
it also kept me busy in 2022. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">With help
from my beloved Mr H, I spent a lot of time honouring the requests of the Midland </span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Adult School. This was to send a copy to every public library in Birmingham,
plus every current and past member who we had details for and of course copies
for people who requested to purchase one. They are still trickling out of my hands;
I am now on my last 18 out of an original 300 copies. Other copies have sold on Amazon and through the publisher </span><a href="https://www.brewinbooks.com/" style="font-family: helvetica;" target="_blank">Brewin Books</a><span style="font-family: helvetica;">.</span></p><p></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It is not a
best seller by any means but that was never the intention. My pride emanates
from the fact that I have recorded, forever, the story of a Philanthropic Organisation
which had a significant part in bringing education to the working class of Britain.
I recorded the personal memories of some of its members and along the way achieved
something that I know makes my late Great Grandad Tom very happy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEievVils9ODJj9e2hmM7MOFRTxnDqpcmnqFj7vOssok7xmCoFMT5e6cAe-FM_HNTj-UdhXBLzDR05hrE98wrU5t0rqzOncxpIuFcgG7Sf9pWWXNHMyHlu5Gm8oIsNPNG49g0kGwJ5vw7OzkCqdXI6EICYHDyoGIhzqEBehrzskC44Cn7AYuqhQ7t1NccZyN/s455/thumbnail_IMG_2275%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="455" data-original-width="342" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEievVils9ODJj9e2hmM7MOFRTxnDqpcmnqFj7vOssok7xmCoFMT5e6cAe-FM_HNTj-UdhXBLzDR05hrE98wrU5t0rqzOncxpIuFcgG7Sf9pWWXNHMyHlu5Gm8oIsNPNG49g0kGwJ5vw7OzkCqdXI6EICYHDyoGIhzqEBehrzskC44Cn7AYuqhQ7t1NccZyN/w151-h200/thumbnail_IMG_2275%20(2).jpg" width="151" /></a></span></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I organised
a launch of the book for the Rubery Class at my mom’s house. The look of surprise
on their faces when they walked into the room where I had the books laid out in
true ‘book launch’ style lit up my heart and settled in my everlasting memory. Alan,
one of the members took a step back from the table and when I asked him why he
said “I had absolutely no idea it would be so professional, a real book.” I asked each member to sign a copy of the book which will be treasured record of them all.<o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSsy9DjA-RDag31ZzKhuvRiBhwlvK_74BOsZOQ7SI6l9yyhQC7q6UG536gQoBOWNe8cqjl5n_Fr_zpYfPR-Zo2juZ5d8NkTh_XyCIvTvEbp3J9s2f6OSQvQgKvIgS5cRaqUdfTfYqk9uPzbWlQjzHouNgvGjdNwHd85btkpuu3pPWeSlDKH5kbUcToTvj/s1024/Beryl.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSsy9DjA-RDag31ZzKhuvRiBhwlvK_74BOsZOQ7SI6l9yyhQC7q6UG536gQoBOWNe8cqjl5n_Fr_zpYfPR-Zo2juZ5d8NkTh_XyCIvTvEbp3J9s2f6OSQvQgKvIgS5cRaqUdfTfYqk9uPzbWlQjzHouNgvGjdNwHd85btkpuu3pPWeSlDKH5kbUcToTvj/w150-h200/Beryl.JPG" width="150" /></a></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Each member posed
clutching their copies which we caught on camera before sitting with a cup of
tea and blue and white Adult School coloured cup cakes which I had made for the
occasion. The chatter in mom’s lounge was reminiscent of my first attendance at
one of their meetings in 2016. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I</span></span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> was also invited to do a talk to the Lickey Hills Local History Society. The room was
packed with friendly faces, a few familiar, many not. The last public talk I gave
was in 2011 at a Brain Tumour conference so I had to try and control my jangling
nerves. But after the first five minutes with my notes in hand I got into my professional
swing.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A friend subsequently
came across a review of my talk in <i>The Village Magazine</i>. The article
started with…<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The guest speaker at the Lickey Hills Society
had the packed Trinity Centre enthralled <i>writes Keith Woolford.</i> Dawn
Hamill, who gave a talk on The Story of the Midland Adult School, was part of a
family that took advantage of, and ultimately benefited from the scheme<i>.”</i>
A tingle of elation ran through my body as I read it…<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Now that
life has resumed and some kind or normality post Covid lockdowns exists, I need
a plan. So, even though my mobility took a big hit, and my new - post Covid - normal
now includes two walking sticks instead of one, a rollator called Canardly and
a Zimmer frame, I shall get back to regularly exercising my brain at the lap
top. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I may even set up a new Blog because <i>Blogger</i> have made their blog site even harder to negotiate or maybe its my older brain getting weary...</span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-49954343700381989922021-11-26T05:43:00.000-08:002021-11-26T05:43:09.707-08:00Words on the Wind<p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">On a week away this summer a rotund man says</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i> It must be a real pain just sitting there taking in the sunshine</i>, as he passes while waving his arms around to take in the sunny blue sky, sea beyond and screeching seagulls.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">My stomach rumbles. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">I mull over how long I should leave it before I mention my hunger to Mr H, knowing he will offer to fetch me something as I laze in my deckchair, smelling of sun cream covered skin. Maybe an avocado bagel from the kiosk I think...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i>I wonder how much they cost a day</i>? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i>£11 </i>I call out as the two ladies pass. They stop, turn their heads and smile a thank you.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i>Hello you are through to British Gas if you have a boiler breakdown press 1...</i> fades with the phone owners footsteps crunching on the pebbled beach in front of us.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i>It was grey on Tuesday but we still went for a swim a</i> mature lady giggles as she and her companion walk, engrossed in their friendly chitter chatter, oblivious to my pen scratching across the page of my notebook.</span></p><p></p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Almost everyone peers inside as they pass. Unembarrassed curiosity disappointed when all they see are two chairs occupied by Mr H and me, our rucksack, knitting, books and shoes abandoned on the floor. They are hoping to see a quintessential beach hut. Pastel blue and white interior with shells dangling from string, a kettle whistling on a camping stove, empty cups awaiting the hot water while pretty, tied back curtains flutter in the breeze.</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoN-spZFgZhSwQwKFa4VuMcxy_M_m91IM_96Ct1TVJCQsRrGhE5Ts_TShZ4gsUzD9R57SPiP4_rnMICqEIopTkCdHNcbQya0foKHYCES9Q_6-TAP4wbVYhqBVlxm_wTEl3JFgdJTTIWynR/s4896/P1020489.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4896" data-original-width="3672" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoN-spZFgZhSwQwKFa4VuMcxy_M_m91IM_96Ct1TVJCQsRrGhE5Ts_TShZ4gsUzD9R57SPiP4_rnMICqEIopTkCdHNcbQya0foKHYCES9Q_6-TAP4wbVYhqBVlxm_wTEl3JFgdJTTIWynR/w240-h320/P1020489.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div><i><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i>Sand in my shoes</i> a small child moans, nestled in his Dad's arms as they wander towards the bucket and spade shop...</p></span></i><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Nosey dogs of all shapes, colours and sizes are eager to investigate the inside of our hut before being yanked away by their lead, held by an absent minded owner. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">A people conscious, bucket and spade laden grandma walks ahead of her dawdling grandson calling out </span><i style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">we are holding everyone up here. </i><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">And when they stand aside, like a queue at temporary traffic lights, the trailing hoards rapidly filter past. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">As the sea recedes it exposes a moss covered rocky prominence which I am itching to explore but when I mention it to Mr H he rolls his eyes saying it will be too slippy for you and I don't fancy fishing you out of the water with a broken ankle. I know he is right so I am content to watch as adults and children clamber all over it, standing and staring. And instead I imagine they are looking into pools full of sea anemones, limpets stuck to the rock like glue and crawling, creeping crabs.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vSIfGa6FAFWUsv5BvGfOnkQwTNNt4lzxJl8-Dp8TF6TLb7mlvuLpWZ-fqpVqUYbIUeLGTidzePaWJ6sqINygbWxyoVi2TQOMjS0WdlYnPG8E81vNGvQM9iHM5r5OWVByZeYXhN1Dx7-D/s4896/P1020463.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3672" data-original-width="4896" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vSIfGa6FAFWUsv5BvGfOnkQwTNNt4lzxJl8-Dp8TF6TLb7mlvuLpWZ-fqpVqUYbIUeLGTidzePaWJ6sqINygbWxyoVi2TQOMjS0WdlYnPG8E81vNGvQM9iHM5r5OWVByZeYXhN1Dx7-D/w320-h240/P1020463.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">A young girl's words to her boyfriend are carried to us on the breeze, <i>take a photo but wait until I get further away from you I will look slimmer then</i>. I grin knowing that is something I am likely to say to Mr H. </span><div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">As the sun dips down towards the water and the air cools, dehydrated children trail behind their equipment laden parents, their eyes watering as they suck rapidly on straws sunken into cold cups of drink, looking anywhere but where they are heading.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Shall we have a walk into town Mr H suggests as he starts to gather our belongings at the end of this beautiful Mindful day...</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmq2tVT8XQkv6cb5zyltbH5sVXTy8X22I7vSfX07L1AugLl53NFiAxoSvWz36n4EVWTu14gBBM5nSvclXxlswEPgcbPY-4GT-eUoC5GAq4YOskrIQvvP6RGhvrLsi4NBZGgue4BWFZ5miI/s640/Frank.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmq2tVT8XQkv6cb5zyltbH5sVXTy8X22I7vSfX07L1AugLl53NFiAxoSvWz36n4EVWTu14gBBM5nSvclXxlswEPgcbPY-4GT-eUoC5GAq4YOskrIQvvP6RGhvrLsi4NBZGgue4BWFZ5miI/s320/Frank.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p></div>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-39258593343683047872021-11-16T09:48:00.002-08:002021-11-16T09:48:57.879-08:00The Last Load<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I hear the rumble of lorry wheels. They are here I shout to
Mr H.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We step outside into the cold darkness. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It’s Wednesday evening on the 10<sup>th</sup> of November.
We have waited all day. I have been like a jack in the box every time a vehicle
drove up our road. I am shattered. I have done more sit to stand exercises in
the last 11 hours than all week. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">My physio will be pleased. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Outside the huge lorry slowly chugs towards us as I wave
frantically hoping he can see me in my navy clothes as they merge with the dark
damp air.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The lorry driver gets out. Walks around the back of his
monster of a lorry and raises the hatch. He disappears into the dark echoing
vault. He eventually emerges with a pallet wrapped in plastic and makes the
slow mechanised descent to the ground. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">He wheels the load over to us as we stand in the road saying
thank you, thank you, thank you, with beaming smiles. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The driver meanwhile says absolutely nothing! He takes a
photograph of us standing by the pallet and we say thank you again to his back
as he walks towards the lorry, gets inside and drives off. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">There is no fanfare. Just the two of us shivering. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Let’s get a knife Mr H says…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">He tears the plastic off and carries box after box into the
back room. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I rip one open and stand motionless. Staring down at the
result of five years work. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFYtu3UQWC2sk_x44nuEBTjeChBQyF6KSYTRw_c80AFub8CguRg4uDdYO6TP4sssIzZdrQqs0Y3K4LA18tU3odJ3LObefcAot-19cvWCI-GPyCd1cB5FCz0SuLaqaCyo1c4TBcZKTc-fKV/s1609/Last+Class.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1609" data-original-width="1232" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFYtu3UQWC2sk_x44nuEBTjeChBQyF6KSYTRw_c80AFub8CguRg4uDdYO6TP4sssIzZdrQqs0Y3K4LA18tU3odJ3LObefcAot-19cvWCI-GPyCd1cB5FCz0SuLaqaCyo1c4TBcZKTc-fKV/s320/Last+Class.jpg" width="245" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I stroke a cover. Lift one free of the box. It is heavy,
heavier than I had expected. And shiny. And big. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It is full of my words. Photographs I have collected and painstakingly
chosen to include. Stories and memories of many ladies and gents who were once members
of Adult School Classes within the Midlands. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">My first book has been published. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Thirteen years to the week after my life changed because of
a brain tumour, I have become a published author of a book on Social History
and the History of Education within the Midland Adult School Union. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I am totally utterly silent. Overwhelmed as tingles run down
my arms and spine. I would never have believed it was possible.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Last Class. The Story of the Midland Adult School
Union 1845-2020. Written by Dawn Hamill.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have spent the last five years plodding through archives, reading
old books and interviewing past and present members of this remarkable Movement.
I have discovered that my own family history was woven into the world of The
Adult School. I have shared some truths about my own journey through life up to
and after the brain tumour. A tumour that changed my world. But gave me the
time to change my path in life. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Rich Tapestry of Life never ceases to amaze and thrill
me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The book is available from <a href="https://www.brewinbooks.com/the_last_class">Brewin Books Ltd</a>. Also <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/s?k=the+last+class+dawn+hamill&crid=1VDDSUG624SYO&sprefix=the+last+class%2Caps%2C154&ref=nb_sb_ss_ts-doa-p_3_14">Amazon</a>. It
can be ordered from WH Smiths. If you have a query, please feel free to email
me <a href="mailto:differencedawns@gmail.com">differencedawns@gmail.com</a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></o:p></p>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-17045151813813934112021-10-19T06:08:00.002-07:002021-10-19T09:31:50.006-07:00Dimwits Don't Wear Masks<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Yesterday over 49,000 people tested positive for Covid
infection.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Within the last week an average of 124 people died as a result of Covid each day in the UK.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">That’s two double decker buses full of seated people.
Friends, wives, husbands, grandparents, mothers, fathers and the occasional
child. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Every day.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">If a double decker bus ran off the road and into a ditch
killing all its occupants there would be outrage. An enquiry into what happened.
<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Two on the same day. Well, that’s hard to imagine. Almost as
bad as everyone dying on a crashed airplane. Well four a week actually if the
weekly figures are compared with a Boeing 747.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">BUT<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The UK Government website displays the numbers vaccinated
first thereby placing emphasis on this rather than the many thousands actually
affected by the virus on a daily basis. Yes, vaccination appears to be saving
lives, reducing the severity of illness in most of those vaccinated but coronavirus
is still there. Still killing people in airplane loads.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">At the start of Lockdown 1 I was part of a group of friends who
started zooming each Sunday, </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">initially to support our dear friend John who was completely
socially isolated as a result. As my Blog readers will know John sadly died but
not of Covid. However, we have carried on zooming most weeks as we reach out to
each other, voices of reason, debating the news headlines, deciding which masks
are the best to wear on an airplane and in shops…</span></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As a group – all retired - we fit into the brigade of vaccinated, eagerly
awaiting boosters, mask compliant, sanitising, handwashing, still social distancing
where we can and avoiding places/situations where we can’t. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Yet it feels as though there are not many of us left.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">At the weekend Mr H and I stopped at a service station on
the M5 to use the loo and it was buzzing with crowds of non-mask wearing people
pushing past me as I headed, slowly, towards the sign for the Toilets. Mr H as
usual was by my side to block those non mask wearing pushers who were in too
much of a hurry to give a wobbly me the space I needed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i>You wouldn’t think we were in the midst of a pandemic at
all would you</i> I said to Mr H as we walked. I was feeling so angry I checked
the UK Gov Guidance which states: <b><i>When You Should Wear a Face Covering</i></b><i>:
We expect and recommend that members of the public continue to wear face coverings
in crowded and enclosed places (sounds like a service station to me…) where you
come into contact with people you don’t meet. For example, on public transport…<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">This brings me to Dimwits and back to my zooming friends. In
particular our zoom master, the organiser of our weekly chats Jeff Smith. He
has kept us entertained with his lengthy emails, summarising and commenting on
the day’s news headlines. He has just returned from a holiday in Mallorca and
this was our zoom sponsors take on what he witnessed…</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: black; padding: 0cm;">There are just so many cases nowadays
in the UK, very nearly 45,000 yesterday… at an average rate of 387 per every
100,000 over the last seven days. </span></i><i><span style="color: #212121; font-size: 11.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: black; padding: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">According to Reuters this morning, in
Spain over the last seven days, the average is currently at 4% of its peak…
that is an average of 1,538 cases per day, just 22 cases per 100,000. A significant
difference.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #212121; font-size: 11.5pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif;">Our country isn't using avoidance of
infection as one of its tools to tackle it, it appears we are relying on the
vaccine alone.</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif;">Elsewhere in Europe, even though
'things' are increasingly allowed, going shopping, meeting up, dining out; mask
wearing indoors remains mandatory. In smaller shops and cafes, the numbers
allowed indoors are restricted, and some social distancing is still in place.
All hospitality staff engaging with customers wear masks.</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif;">In a hotel we stayed in for our last
night, our temperatures were taken at check in. The breakfast was held on the
covered (but open both ends) roof terrace (yes it's warmer on the med) and
everyone still had to wear a mask. The tables were well spaced and you had to
wear plastic gloves for collecting food from the buffet. </span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif;">They haven't forgotten, they aren't
ignoring it. Despite starting after the UK, they're as vaccinated now and often
more vaccinated - in percentage of population - than we are. But they recognise
that reducing infection is key to success.</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif;">Double vaccines alone do not prevent
infection from the delta variant, it reduces the severity, but unfortunately,
it doesn't guarantee it won't kill you. Above the age of 65, maybe even 60,
there are deaths amongst the double vaccinated and the ratios and numbers
increase with age.</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif;">We all have to be careful.</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif;">In the airport at Mallorca, we saw
signs (in multiple languages) instructing everyone to 'respect respiratory
etiquette'. </span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif;">An excellent message. Or as I might say
'wear your bloody mask. And wear it correctly, you dimwit'!</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif;">Here it feels as though the government message
is that we are reverting to 'herd immunity' through spreading of infection. It
appears as though they're not interested with how many folk get ill or infect
others (even deaths), just as long as the NHS doesn't get overrun. </span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: black;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif;">I don't understand it, I don't agree
with it, but most of the UK’s population (from the evidence I see) seem not to
be bothered at all.</span></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: black;"><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">This is the personal view of an intelligent member
of the public who has witnessed first-hand the different approaches in the UK
and Europe. It is clear that a large percentage of the UK population don’t want
to protect their fellow man. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I feel that reintroducing mandatory face coverings
and social distancing in England (if only to give a visible sense to all that we
are still in the middle of a Pandemic) as in other parts of Europe could have a
significant impact on the numbers of airplanes, we are filling with deaths from
Covid infection in the UK.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">And as the dark nights draw in and winter takes
hold, the population of people who have not been exposed to the usual colds,
flus and respiratory infections because of lockdowns are now moving around as
though these infections also don’t exist.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">As someone with underlying health conditions and a
trashed immune system I am worried. I am vaccinated, wear a mask, maintain social
distancing but despite this am fearful that tomorrow or the next day I could start coughing and end up as another statistic
on one of those buses or airplanes…</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTULwiZdtANIe89ut4QF9a1DsjrkF7ToHAKNLAIU9raDvA3KFQgsBduKMxY0PW060MYH1EyIS7OGeI5JqBm2E3LgKQE4n0vQmh6hMTQZ2eh_-zN_V3rg1prOqDFkiTvXquZ9QkbonybbEv/s290/London+Bus+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="186" data-original-width="290" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTULwiZdtANIe89ut4QF9a1DsjrkF7ToHAKNLAIU9raDvA3KFQgsBduKMxY0PW060MYH1EyIS7OGeI5JqBm2E3LgKQE4n0vQmh6hMTQZ2eh_-zN_V3rg1prOqDFkiTvXquZ9QkbonybbEv/s0/London+Bus+%25282%2529.jpg" width="290" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p></p><p></p>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-61652868101228480802021-06-14T08:34:00.002-07:002021-06-14T08:34:18.671-07:00Farewell John<p><span face=""Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #201f1e; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 15px;">During the last three years I’ve said too many tearful goodbyes to people who I have loved and who have stamped their special characters into my soul.</span></p><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">This week I will be saying a final farewell to John, a friend for forty years.</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">We spent ten years of our lives together and since then our strong friendship has moulded into an exchange of support and sharing a love of music, film and books.</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In the 1980s we traveled around his much loved Spain, proudly thinking we had learned to speak Spanish at night school until challenged with trying to understand Spanish people talking!</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I have stood ‘patiently’ tapping my feet while John lay on the pavement in the middle of Madrid trying to get THE photograph, and again in the Alhambra Palace in Granada and again in Andalusia and the mountains of Austria…</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I sat through a horrific bull fight in Rhonda because John wanted the experience, oh yes, and the photos…</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Those who knew John will know that getting up and down from the floor was no mean feat with his disabilities caused by polio when he was 4 years old.</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">He taught me so much about dealing with disability. As ironically I followed in his footsteps - or not so many steps as it turned out…</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">He showed me that grit determination mixed in with a bit of a temper, helps in rising above health challenge after health challenge which were thrown at him and subsequently me…</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">He rarely complained about his fate but when he did it was usually to my ears as a nurse. I understood his pain and frustration and even more so as my own health declined.</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Despite his own problems he was ready with advice, compiling a cd on music we had spoken about or researching whichever electronic device I was thinking about buying…</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span style="color: #201f1e;"><span style="font-size: 15px;">When I decided to learn to play the ukulele during lockdown it was John I turned to for guidance... We had always been happy to entertain as a guitar playing duet - John a skilful master of the guitar, while I strummed along or sung out of tune! </span></span><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">John had a strong family of friends but it is only now as we plan his funeral that I begin to understand how, like a bird collecting grass and straw, it was John who gathered people into his nest of friendship.</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It is only through loss that I begin to realise how much of my friends' soul has seeped into mine…</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">So once again, as I sit in the garden listening to the breeze rustling through the trees and to the joyful bird song as they settle on branches, I am reminded that precious moments like this can so easily end…</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Rest in Peace John xxx</span></div><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #201f1e; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Segoe UI Web (West European)", "Segoe UI", -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSpirB_q25GlIkjjWUULlX_JT4lfqb-sfdhFvizAQFu8MOynla7eOv3vjGCuia3-BIF2gmPA61E_Vw25GlOqLyQQBui6F2PgoX8PEUTfJXWwuwDRsv6EUO8q0rJuH29ntknLbVKaZtgJ5u/s155/John.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="155" data-original-width="111" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSpirB_q25GlIkjjWUULlX_JT4lfqb-sfdhFvizAQFu8MOynla7eOv3vjGCuia3-BIF2gmPA61E_Vw25GlOqLyQQBui6F2PgoX8PEUTfJXWwuwDRsv6EUO8q0rJuH29ntknLbVKaZtgJ5u/s0/John.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-31885945209949173752021-02-15T07:42:00.000-08:002021-02-15T07:42:15.817-08:00And the winner is...<p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Love is in the air and when I wonder into the kitchen two red envelopes
await. The one with my name on has a bag of heart shaped chocolates behind it!</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I don’t open it as I am up early and Mr H sleeps on.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I look up from my computer screen when he wonders down the stairs and
immediately asks</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Do you want another coffee?</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Ooh yes please </span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I reply without a glance in his direction<i>.</i></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Oh, and will you read this letter for me to check that I have included
everything…</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The last few months I have been working harder than I ever have. My days
at the computer are long, my eyes are sore but I now have a deadline to meet.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">The book I have been undertaking research for and then writing over the
last five years is almost ready to go to my publisher.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Yes, MY PUBLISHER… every time I say those words, I grin</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I have signed a publishing contract</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> – grin</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I have been talking to my publisher</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> – blush with pride</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">My book - The Last Class – The Story of the Midland Adult
School Union 1845-2010, is about the history of the astonishing Adult School
Movement in the Midlands. Once a flourishing organisation, it is now about to
close is doors and only the last class will meet. The Rubery Class. The Class
which my Mom has attended for almost sixty years. The history and memories of
the last living members of some of the Birmingham Classes are woven into this
book along with my own recently discovered family history. Snippets of my own
life peek out from some of the pages.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">I am beginning to get excited, I am however, keeping it in check with a
heavy book as I try to unravel the world of copyright law for the many images
to be included.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">After an hour and another cup of coffee I remember it's Valentine’s Day
so drag myself out of my computer chair to give Mr H a hug and his card…</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">This year I am convinced that my card will be the winner, appropriate
for the moment depicting what has occupied almost all of my time since the
start of Coronavirus…</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12.85pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Helvetica",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9I6eHitmiuOgZtxITogXAoQSaVt0av4kngER_jIrxzFS2XPjxcmgf1wxysd1z5xi2PNRQwyDBx0PGZVeBlQQJ8F6qN5dWTNNc3X6IOdZuBlmm-QzS6dTfCXWlzSs7TpQqEfTlRz1A7TPu/s493/Books.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="370" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9I6eHitmiuOgZtxITogXAoQSaVt0av4kngER_jIrxzFS2XPjxcmgf1wxysd1z5xi2PNRQwyDBx0PGZVeBlQQJ8F6qN5dWTNNc3X6IOdZuBlmm-QzS6dTfCXWlzSs7TpQqEfTlRz1A7TPu/s320/Books.JPG" /></a></div><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 12.85pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"> Mr H agrees… and I make my way back to the computer…</span></p><br /><p></p>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-3855496025973351752020-10-04T04:39:00.003-07:002021-01-21T03:25:05.404-08:00I am not a Grandma<p><i><span style="font-family: helvetica;">My nan uses one of those.</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: helvetica;">My grandad was told to have one but he refused as he didn’t
want to be seen using it<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: helvetica;">My grandma has one<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Each time I manage to squeeze the words four-wheel walker
out of my reluctant mouth to share the new horror in my world, people spurt those words which make it tougher for me to acknowledge at the age of 57 I
need more help with my walking. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A stick is no longer enough.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A feeling of dismay washes over me each time I glance sideways. It
blocks my view of the garden so I move it under the stairs. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">But it stares at me each time I walk past… whispering <i>you
are old now only the elderly use these…<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">If you google the words <i>balance and falls</i> the words <i>older
and elderly</i> jump from every page. I have fallen too many times this year.
But I am not old or elderly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Six falls in July alone. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I tripped over my own feet, left my foot behind when I walked between rooms, I even lost my balance and
fell to my knees on the moving walkway on our only visit to Tesco during this
prolonged Coronavirus lockdown. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">They came last week to assess me. My heart pounded and I
clenched my sweaty palms, knowing I needed the review. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">But I didn’t want them to come. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The nurse and physio from the Community Falls and Mobility service
my GP had referred me to, stepped inside. They oozed professionalism and
kindness, nodding understandingly when I burst into tears at their words. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i>It is unsafe to be so dependent on Mr H when you walk outside, because if you fall, you
will take him down too..</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">It makes sense but my heart and pride don’t like the sensible
option. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">They tell me the answer is a stable four-wheel walker with a bloody
seat. The words I had assumed would be spoken but dreaded from the pit of my
soul. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I now have new exercises to do daily to strengthen my leg
muscles – maybe they will do the trick I pray – similar exercises I was doing
at my weekly pre coronavirus exercise class for wobbly people, which needless
to say hasn’t taken place since March. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
whole six months…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Things have gradually been getting worse over the last couple of years.
It started with an increase in the number of my seizures. Making me afraid to
walk alone across an open flat space for fear that one would swipe me off my
feet mid-way. I started to walk close to walls – where there were any – giving me
something to grab if a wobble or trip caught me out. Then a change in my
epilepsy drugs which improved my seizures but I am convinced made my walking
and balance worse. My Epilepsy consultant thinks not but we are tweaking my dose just in case.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">In December I froze trying to get down the stairs at the cinema
– something I have managed with Mr H until then. We needed the help of a third person,
a kind stranger, to get me down safely as silent tears dripped off my nose while
everyone there tried not to stare. My 88 year old Mum has had more stair rails installed for me. Not her!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">A fall down the stairs at home followed with a visit to
A&E, a CT scan of my head and a weeks’ worth of head spinning concussion smashed my confidence into smithereens. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Gentle slopes have become mountains. I feel as though I am in
the front seat of a roller coaster ready to tip over the edge of a hundred
metre drop before plummeting down to the ground. Vomit threatens to spurt out
of my mouth when the camber of a pavement changes. I can no longer cross a road
without Mr H. I grip onto his arm and stare at the ground while he checks for traffic
before firmly telling me to walk. I shuffle like, yes, an old person. Fearful
that stepping into the road will bring disaster. Another fall. A broken leg. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I prefer not to go out anymore. Yet I want to walk to the
allotment…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The mask, apron and glove wearing Physio Assistant and Occupational
Therapist come with the walker. They take time to talk to me with reassuring
smiles, tweak the height of my kitchen perching stool so I no longer slip off. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With smiling eyes, the OT assesses our
home to make it safer for me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I now have
appointments for walking practice outside and an order for six more grab rails
to be placed around the home. A raised toilet seat, for god sake, to stop me
pulling on the sink to get up and down off the loo. A step to make it easier to
get into and out of the shower…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I am deteriorating. My brain is letting me down. My heart sinks each time I think about
it. I don’t understand why. I want to scream and shout with sad tears running
down my face. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">The four-wheel walker is still there. Nausea rises each time
I turn round. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSiV3PqjPMcsyPjJxjw0ILEsbRKS5sbvOKlEd8cY2vs5eUk6btz1TnrskEOD9F1ruU5uKn0IS79BewBGdhGlYydAxu5vrMpUA0jno2knfkV_M5MBGXoPF2-rep_4h8i8Om8HykaQ_JTuzN/s447/walker.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="447" data-original-width="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSiV3PqjPMcsyPjJxjw0ILEsbRKS5sbvOKlEd8cY2vs5eUk6btz1TnrskEOD9F1ruU5uKn0IS79BewBGdhGlYydAxu5vrMpUA0jno2knfkV_M5MBGXoPF2-rep_4h8i8Om8HykaQ_JTuzN/s0/walker.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I feel embarrassed. I dread the platitudes, the sympathetic
looks and strained smiles as people look me up and down in surprise. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">I dread more of the… my nan, grandma, grandad declarations.
They DO NOT help me. I fear the jokes; <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i>well at least you have a basket to carry the allotment
produce back</i> up the hill…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: helvetica;">can I have a go? can I use your seat?<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: helvetica;">why don’t you just jazz it up<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">There are no young versions, they are all the same – metal and
plastic, blue, black and grey<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I need a new friendly name for my monster. It will never
define me, it’s my enabler…</span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-86361273007743702572020-07-14T05:24:00.005-07:002020-07-14T06:42:01.704-07:00Masks and Slimy Snot<div class="separator"><p class="MsoNormal" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><font face="arial">It has been many years since I last wore a mask. In fact, pre-Coronavirus,
I am struggling to remember when it might have been. But as soon as I realised
that wearing a face covering was to become the norm in crowded spaces, where
the two-metre distance was hard to maintain, I sought out my supply. I
considered using a snood or scarf but felt it would be too much like hard work
to wash it after each use. So, my answer came in a pretty double or optional triple layer mask</font><span style="font-family: arial;">, home-made
by my friend Jacky.</span></p></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial"></font></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font face="arial"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRH9i-FPRgi_3GOBF6pZ0sLedT-fTOGIIyR77yIrEdH4REWdFh40nF2sdEsCHqLY7G3LwbrMKog9xf2A5xTqgILwy5pXYyUUSZDyMqnhQNTrJDRw6gOannGL4o-kLYsOCj2FMfh_ushqG0/s1130/Facemask.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1130" data-original-width="848" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRH9i-FPRgi_3GOBF6pZ0sLedT-fTOGIIyR77yIrEdH4REWdFh40nF2sdEsCHqLY7G3LwbrMKog9xf2A5xTqgILwy5pXYyUUSZDyMqnhQNTrJDRw6gOannGL4o-kLYsOCj2FMfh_ushqG0/w154-h205/Facemask.jpg" width="154" /></a></font></div><font face="arial">Yesterd</font><span style="font-family: arial;">ay our neighbour took me and Mr H out to a Garden
Centr</span><span style="font-family: arial;">e. Mr H isn’t able to drive at the moment so we sat in the back of her car,
face coverings on, windows open and my uncut hair wildly blowing around my face.
I squealed when we realised that the café was open and we would be able to sit
outside on the empty patio. Mr H ordered our drinks, while Tina and I sat
grinning at each other while we waited.</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">Then another mask wearing couple entered the café and I
watched with my mouth agape as, once seated, the man grabbed the front of his
mask with both hands and scrunched it up before putting it face down onto the
table. <o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">I’ve seen this behaviour so many times. People pulling on
the front of their face covering or mask, continually pressing on the bridge of
their nose, pulling the covering on and off their face like they are wiping a
snotty nose beneath ... The Infection Prevention and Control Nurse within me cringes every time, I want to advise, tell them to stop...<o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">Each time this is done, hands and everything subsequently touched
are covered with the virus -if present- and any other respiratory or
environmental micro-organisms<span style="color: red;"> </span>which have collected
on the inside and outside of the face covering. <o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">Wearing face coverings in public, often in close contact
with others, also seems to give some an invincible air: <i>I’ve got a mask on
therefore the virus can’t get within a leopard’s leap of me. <o:p></o:p></i></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">Whereas, I have learnt that my mask or face covering, at
best prevents me, should I be an asymptomatic carrier, from spreading any respiratory
droplets which contain Coronavirus to others in close proximity. It may also have
a minor effect on protecting me from some virus containing droplets in a cough or sneeze should I get close to a person who has the virus.<o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">When I handle my mask, I imagine that it is covered in
someone else’s slimy snot; not something to be grabbed with both fists and
left on a table where food is to be placed:<o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">I do not touch it until I need to remove it.<br />
When I remove it, I unloop it from my ears, avoiding touching the front or
inside before dropping it into a plastic bag which I carry with me. Then I wash
or sanitise my hands.<br />
If I need to wear it again before returning home, I only touch the loops of the
mask – always maintaining the same side of the material facing outwards.<br />
Once home, with clean hands, I remove my covering from my face or plastic bag,
wash it in hot soapy water and leave to dry. Then I wash my hands again. <o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">Personally, I don’t use a disposable mask but if anyone does
and wants to re-use it, it seems sensible to keep it in the bag or hung in a suitable
place away from all regularly used surfaces. <o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">Questions about cleaning the house also tumble around in my
mind. But I know that any detergent such as washing up liquid or simple soap
and water are sufficient for cleaning my house. <o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">The great thing about this virus is that it is an enveloped
virus. This means, like my lockdown abdomen which has been full of cake, it has
a fatty (lipid) outer wall. Here’s where we can celebrate,
as this layer (membrane) makes it much easier to kill when outside of the body.
Unlike my stubborn cake filled abdomen, this fragile outer layer is relatively easy
to break down using soap and water and once done, results in destruction of the
virus. <o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">Bleach on surfaces will also work but as one author
described it; <i><a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.co.uk/science-and-technology/2020/03/why-soap-preferable-bleach-fight-against-coronavirus">using bleach is like using a bludgeon to swat a fly</a>. </i>Cleaning
products, including hand sanitisers, containing at least 60% Alcohol are also effective
but<i> </i>the Bludgeon and fly come to mind unless away from a sink in the
case of keeping hands clean. <o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">Talking about hands brings me to my final point and a man in
Pink marigold gloves. I titter as I type… Gloved hands are still hands which can
pick up and transfer the virus or any other micro-organisms. So, wearing gloves
does not mean we will not come into contact with the virus if it is there. <o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><font face="arial">There are five points worth noting here:<o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><font face="arial"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Used appropriately gloves can reduce but won’t eradicate
hand contamination and can spread micro-organisms. They are primarily and most appropriately for healthcare workers use.<o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><font face="arial"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>Hands must always be washed or sanitised <i>after</i>
glove removal because hands are inevitably contaminated when gloves are removed. <o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><font face="arial"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>Disposable gloves are just that disposable and
will not withstand ‘cleaning’ with alcohol. <o:p></o:p></font></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><font face="arial"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>Used gloves, shoved into pockets will
contaminate the clothing. </font></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> I never wear gloves in shops,
instead when out, I rely on the effective use of hand sanitiser, hand washing
where possible and not touching my face.</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> Stay safe my friends and remember
if you think of used face coverings (and gloves if you insist on using them) as
being covered in someone else’s wet slimy snot it will keep you focused on their
safe use. </span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><br />Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-34891862390597211922020-05-06T00:50:00.002-07:002020-05-06T00:50:45.048-07:00Through Sue's Eyes<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today I am drawn to sit on our bench in the front garden.
The seat is wet it’s been raining. I am sitting here to feel close
to Sue. My <i>Swimming Sue</i>.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We met because of my brain tumour. We came face to face ten
years ago as a result of Jon, a young man who I was lucky enough to connect
with at a brain tumour support group. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>I needed to meet the lady who Jon was so excited to have
joining him at Church during craft morning </i>Sue told me much later. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When I turned the huge brass door handle and pushed open the
heavy door to step inside St Marys Church for the first time, I scanned for
Jon’s face, I’ll be doing my jigsaw he told me. He saw me and grinned. I walked
towards him, my stick clicking on the floor as I went, to admire the progress
he was making with his jigsaw rolled out on a mat before him. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A beautiful lady with dark curly hair approached us and with
outstretched arms squealed <i>Dawn, it is Dawn isn’t it, I have been so looking
forward to meeting you; I’m Sue</i>. As our eyes met and we hugged, I suspected
that this lady was going to matter as much to me as Jon did.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To start with my contact with Sue was craft related, as
recently traumatised by my need to retire from my nursing career, Sue
encouraged me to join Jon at the Church craft session. I watched in awe as Sue
bobbed from table to table, sharing an encouraging smile with new comers and
tips on crocheting, knitting, painting and quilting with everyone there. The
room positively glowed when Sue was in it. She made coffee and did the washing
up while supporting and showering her love on those who were ready to receive
it. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When Jon died because of his brain tumour it was Sue who
walked with me around the church yard before the service. We sat on a bench
under a tree and talked about life. And death. It was Sue and her husband Peter
who put their arms around me when I was utterly overwhelmed by the loss of my
friend. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sue listened as I poured out the story of how, when on our
Caribbean honeymoon cruise, two complete strangers had watched me sitting at
the sea’s edge being swished in and out, too fearful to take the plunge. They
held out their hands, enticed me in and once under water encouraged me to float
and then swim a few strokes. <i>I sobbed with joy as – for the first time in
two years - the feeling of normality overwhelmed me,</i> <i>but I never saw
those people again</i> I told Sue. <i>They were Angels</i> she smiled
knowingly. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sue encouraged me to try swimming again. She took me to the
local pool and spent week after week with me in the warmth of the baby pool. We
giggled like kids as we raced across the pool, swimming with no leg movement to
make it an equal competition! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMPzaKeCTIDzIzcH0QbGiV7HJuQxgL-6W0iwyKI1nUmpneFg4LCCV2bKXFrKXAQvKK5_lhmYo2zu10g-W3EnUGG8IUMTkEl2xwPjoUFZPopOAjNbADfMwiybojYwM0_ASUtJq8O4Llwrha/s1600/Butterfly+Brooch.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMPzaKeCTIDzIzcH0QbGiV7HJuQxgL-6W0iwyKI1nUmpneFg4LCCV2bKXFrKXAQvKK5_lhmYo2zu10g-W3EnUGG8IUMTkEl2xwPjoUFZPopOAjNbADfMwiybojYwM0_ASUtJq8O4Llwrha/s200/Butterfly+Brooch.jpeg" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We swapped jars of
homemade preserves, a jar of my blackberry jam for a jar of Sue’s gorgeously
tangy lemon curd. Sue gently taught me that thoughtful home crafted gifts are
more meaningful than those snapped up in shops.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We shared secrets on our lunch and coffee meet ups and
excursions out to the Clevedon seaside which always included lunch after a
stroll around our favourite high street store which was stuffed full of wool,
material, threads and all things crafty. We um’d and ah’d over hats, tittering
as we pulled the oddest ones onto our heads. We chose earrings and always
visited the charity shops, Sue coming away with a top and me a jumper or two.
We both loved bright colours, never afraid to add a splash to whatever we were
wearing, our joint favourite was a deep sea-sky blue. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sue had breast cancer. Then a year later so did I. We shared
the intimacies of treatment, Sue shopped for my breast cancer bras when I was
readmitted to hospital with complications after my surgery. She arrived
swinging the M&S bag and we laughed as she pulled out one monstrosity after
the other, deciding on the least offensive styles. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We cried on each other’s shoulders. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hugged often. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When Sue collected me from home, we always stood in the
front of our cottage to admire the tiny details in flowers. <i>Look at the way
that petal is curling Sue would exclaim; see how the water has settled on that
leaf</i>; and once cringing in surprise <i>Dawn there’s a dead rat on your path</i>!
</span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9S9_a0OzVRibaZAlOAVCj2uYztOzbfNsNBCBe5DixkWmI7GL-_1EgRBRs3Dcp0AWObZu2Hx4HrXIZ85N5CEldPID3b7TUljByMnsNGmnXQ1ejBTMDzYnytzLrpeE67w4WBEb5ZwykWPvf/s1600/Hat.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9S9_a0OzVRibaZAlOAVCj2uYztOzbfNsNBCBe5DixkWmI7GL-_1EgRBRs3Dcp0AWObZu2Hx4HrXIZ85N5CEldPID3b7TUljByMnsNGmnXQ1ejBTMDzYnytzLrpeE67w4WBEb5ZwykWPvf/s200/Hat.jpeg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sue had an easy sense
of style and on a visit to my much-loved Lyme Regis <i>to see what it was all
about</i> she was delighted to discover the hat shop I had gushed about for so
many years. In true Sue style she sent me a WhatsApp message with just a
photograph of the hat she had bought. No words needed!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But Sue’s breast cancer didn’t behave the same as mine.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The last time I saw her in March we had a long coffee, once
again in the leisure centre, but this time we didn’t swim. As we talked, and talked,
she oozed with her now fragile beauty. She chatted about how happy she was to
see her son Harry and daughter Laura settled in their relationships and about
Laura’s forthcoming wedding. Sue showed me photographs snapped on her smart
phone, talked about her and Peter’s strong Faith and how tired she was now
feeling…</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The morning the phone rang, it was a call I have been
expecting yet hoping would never come. Peter
said she’s not with us anymore, and I wept selfish tears for the loss of my
friend.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So, as I sit on my front garden bench where Sue and I have
rested side by side so many times, I watch as a pair of Dunnocks come close.
They move from branch to branch, slowly edging their way towards me,
occasionally dropping onto the path by my side. I absorb their beauty, their
grey chest, a rainbow of shades of browns on their backs. As tears prick my eyes, a sense of calm rises
in my soul. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sue left me with more than the memories of our friendship,
she gave me a gift. She taught me to see the world through her eyes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">With my deepest love </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Dawn xx</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-67762080631057782682020-04-13T05:59:00.001-07:002020-04-13T05:59:14.030-07:00Knotted Knees
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This spring,
digging, sowing seeds and harvesting our allotment produce has become the
permitted daily exercise. We enjoy the benefits of a walk, or drive to the site
before we open our shed and lift our spades to get our heart pumping and legs
working while the early spring sunshine shines on our faces. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilVth4iC4W6k7RJA79l62aQtN73-uZK3J9WDnyd74n0ny0t0lPozoMV3KeaukPX-W-Bi1cavbm-5GLXnRUYdxYyGrueWCO7LJVz8y5-m9b2EwuYJnrGsZALCcCXWoa6IWvWdl0FkHChhBc/s1600/Painted+Lady+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilVth4iC4W6k7RJA79l62aQtN73-uZK3J9WDnyd74n0ny0t0lPozoMV3KeaukPX-W-Bi1cavbm-5GLXnRUYdxYyGrueWCO7LJVz8y5-m9b2EwuYJnrGsZALCcCXWoa6IWvWdl0FkHChhBc/s320/Painted+Lady+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">During the year, Robins follow us
around as we lift worms to the top of the soil. People walking along the stone
walled lane - now at a safe distance – raise their hands to wave and say hello. Butterflies and bees keep the plants growing
as they move from flower to leaf. Peacocks, </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Painted Ladies and Red Admirals
stop me digging when they settle nearby, while brassica eating caterpillars
emerge into Small and Wood Whites which flutter like feathers amongst the
plants.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The benefit
of growing our own produce becomes even more important as the country tackles the
rapid spread of Coronavirus. We plant more seeds than normal and seeds are
swapped as those who had not placed their orders earlier in the year struggle
to buy what is needed. Jokes about planting toilet roll trees resonate amongst
the sweat and toil of preparing plots for this growing season. </span></span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3iEtDWwVMOxiwZM6umPNNDWkMxYjGjjTVke4JqD8kTERx2dEpiRMX-bsp4TjbM_5QLVHCWBeej3sWgX9lDmO1D6GVTialU-C0AC3qU-MMCCw2aPHlpHZ_ZMJMQcWHrbyy9T-SsS1mHFF/s1600/thumbnail_IMG_2653%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="300" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3iEtDWwVMOxiwZM6umPNNDWkMxYjGjjTVke4JqD8kTERx2dEpiRMX-bsp4TjbM_5QLVHCWBeej3sWgX9lDmO1D6GVTialU-C0AC3qU-MMCCw2aPHlpHZ_ZMJMQcWHrbyy9T-SsS1mHFF/s200/thumbnail_IMG_2653%255B1%255D.jpg" width="133" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mr H and I imagine that the excess
produce table at the entrance to the site is going to be more popular than
usual because getting an online food delivery slot is as likely as finding gold
in the River Frome. Parishioner’s and community members who enjoy a walk along
the river always ensure that these surplus, often organically produced stocks
quickly disappear into their kitchens to feed themselves and their families.
The Community spirit abounds amongst the plot holders and those who pass by
clutching rhubarb and parsnips with a smile on their faces.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To keep the
allotment site Coronavirus safe, we have created our own rules based on
Government advice. As the secretary to our allotment association, I have
compiled a list of do’s and don’ts which include wearing gloves and bringing
antibacterial wipes to clean the handles of any communal equipment used. The
site toilet is out of bounds so it is either a case of properly planning
allotment visits or digging with knotted knees!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4XyRtN7MiLmmzvUm-E8zDpw0omx5wMN0b-RC_du5SOU89gwk0tG5bxbNoFnX3YdjcEOCCvqKsqGpjQkHcUYgpLGwiW-3Xu89Q7r-O5fBL2iI6QNS9MN6Kw07zqkIYSDGVDdPMY0zoM9qI/s1600/thumbnail_IMG_2194%255B1%255D+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="435" data-original-width="637" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4XyRtN7MiLmmzvUm-E8zDpw0omx5wMN0b-RC_du5SOU89gwk0tG5bxbNoFnX3YdjcEOCCvqKsqGpjQkHcUYgpLGwiW-3Xu89Q7r-O5fBL2iI6QNS9MN6Kw07zqkIYSDGVDdPMY0zoM9qI/s200/thumbnail_IMG_2194%255B1%255D+%25282%2529.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Keeping our plot is back aching, time
consuming work and is not for those who think it’s a matter of plant and go –
only returning later to pick produce – which without regular tending will have wilted
amongst the ever-growing weeds. It is satisfying hard work which we tackle a
‘bit at a time’. Our reward is tasty, wholesome fresh food week after
week.</span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-83076004283186039552020-03-26T09:17:00.002-07:002020-03-26T09:18:48.867-07:00Two Painted Ladies
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The doors are closed but the windows are open. For now. Our
normally vast world is as small as a shoe box. The sound of a cough makes my
head snap round. Who, where, how far away from me was that?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s day one of this new surreal existence. Social distancing, self-isolation, panic
buying and stockpiling are terms which roll off the tongues of the most
un-likely family and friends. Video calling my elderly – now classed as vulnerable
- Mum is a daily event to ensure she is not turning red in the face with a
soaring temperature or coughing more than she usually does. My phone screen
time has tripled as I catch up with friends and family to discuss the bizarre world
we are currently in. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I check the long list of underlying health conditions; people at an increased risk of developing severe Coronavirus symptoms, to see
if my name is there. I don’t tick a
specific box but with my hotch potch of health challenges and run-down immune
system I decide to have a box of my own.
</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On evening number two I feel sick as a screwed-up fist like
lump lodges itself in my gut. A sense of dread of the unknown. I’m not
particularly scared of getting it, Mr H meanwhile is terrified of the
consequences if I do. I’m more worried about Mum. Should we collect her, is it
too much of a risk, the Politicians and Public Health experts are advising
against it. I offer to take the risk if she will stay for the whole time but
her rapid reply <i>I want to be at home</i>, slams that idea straight back into
the box.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Isolation is not new to me. In 2008 I spent a month shut
into a small cell without bars on the window. Nurses, Physiotherapists and
Doctors came in and out. I was dependent on them for almost everything. If I couldn’t reach my glass I couldn’t drink.
I couldn’t get out of bed without other people’s hands and equipment as my legs
no longer responded to any requests. A bedpan or commode replaced my toilet. I
spent the next two months in a larger isolation room, a ward, with a group of
other patients but by now I could do a slow zimmer frame walk to freedom. Closing
the door on an ordinary toilet, placing a beautiful barrier between me and
others was like being on a Caribbean beach! I kept myself busy, Chris brought me easy knitting
to encourage the use back into my left arm. I watched Disney films. As I began
to recover, I even helped staff with their interview practice. </span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSqxMtG6x5ILlcBKsPKvdRC80ECylOIA_CHylz7ZXhwTNRXjODQJfZF-7DLW8bx9cepmn-5HJxYWDvFNsVwWgLD-Z0hnXc80ih_vrok51707r2qxuOAqU73j3VQ7ceJX1wPnD5ZiPp6DZ/s1600/Note+book.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSqxMtG6x5ILlcBKsPKvdRC80ECylOIA_CHylz7ZXhwTNRXjODQJfZF-7DLW8bx9cepmn-5HJxYWDvFNsVwWgLD-Z0hnXc80ih_vrok51707r2qxuOAqU73j3VQ7ceJX1wPnD5ZiPp6DZ/s200/Note+book.JPG" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like then I have a project plan
for this latest self-isolation. I’m a list maker so I make a list of the jobs I want to do in my flowery list making note book. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My headliner is writing,
I can scribble contentedly hour after hour; put dusty black and white
photographs into the recently bought albums for the job, clean out cupboards;
the list is long and enticing. I wonder how much I will actually do.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have a new occupation though, facetime interview practice
with my friends who are applying for new jobs. This voluntary role sprung out
of a couple of telephone calls and requests for help. Help is something I can
do virtually from home. Supporting friends puts a tingle in my belly and
lightens my spirit. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mr H returns from a grocery shop <i>there’s an atmosphere
out there he says, it’s like the manic ness of Christmas but without any of the
joy</i>. <i>The only full shelves were those filled with Easter Eggs which no one
was buying.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As we pass day 8 the UK has accepted that Coronavirus has already infected too many people here and the rules are tightened. However, despite the new rules the fist in my stomach has melted. I now
know that the advice and decisions I have been
making to protect my Mum, Mr H and myself are, beyond a glitter of a doubt,
correct.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfIxzRBhzQIAzpEaqcJEEK0achRexiJGSn3B9vWHuZb97kaCMIWYuy_zvyVlXJaS7iwIwQnietTCZh421SuXtFHOHQD1SvEDZzOtZXD7OiGHOM4nXsIC9pUnuuhSvzaXyC_WqjzM4NaZPf/s1600/P1010369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfIxzRBhzQIAzpEaqcJEEK0achRexiJGSn3B9vWHuZb97kaCMIWYuy_zvyVlXJaS7iwIwQnietTCZh421SuXtFHOHQD1SvEDZzOtZXD7OiGHOM4nXsIC9pUnuuhSvzaXyC_WqjzM4NaZPf/s200/P1010369.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are lucky, we have our own green outdoor space. Our garden
is our sanctuary, my Zen time, Mr H’s daily mindfulness practice. When the
golden ball is high in the clear blue sky and throws light and warmth across
our outside world, like cats, we purr with contentment. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I plonk myself down in our front garden and watch our rule
abiding community take their daily exercise. Like the Queen I
wave from my throne and call regular hellos to people as they pass on the
pavement across the road. They are many metres away from me but the passing connections
make my spirits soar as high as a buzzard.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Out of the corner of my eye I spot a flurry of orange and brown
mid-air activity, a speedy acrobatic whirling of wings which my eyes struggle
to follow. <i>Two Painted L</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>adies</i> I say to myself. However when I get in and check my wildlife book I realise my Painted Ladies were in fact Red Admirals. Whatever their name I am reminded that amongst this
crazy Coronavirus world nature calmly carries on…</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcimvd5O92mHE9qwLo5_dJIDmSt0TLz527XhgJkXVm_himQA8W3uC55NeLSbE1BRLHZrmftRtAQTs2zNL894_fplC2x2bsa8jyaqVyZWMpTmuNmqbMgVV8yf0xq3yKU2Sfsk1nR6fmEi2O/s1600/Painted+lady+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcimvd5O92mHE9qwLo5_dJIDmSt0TLz527XhgJkXVm_himQA8W3uC55NeLSbE1BRLHZrmftRtAQTs2zNL894_fplC2x2bsa8jyaqVyZWMpTmuNmqbMgVV8yf0xq3yKU2Sfsk1nR6fmEi2O/s320/Painted+lady+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-51974156928319375212020-02-10T05:51:00.000-08:002020-02-10T05:51:00.886-08:00A Bag and a Half of Sugar
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I walk into SlimmingWorld today my heart will be
pounding. My knees will be trembling. My palms will be so sweaty my weigh in book
will be as wet as the rain pouring down the windows. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My legs are so tired I wobble more than ever as I walk. They
are empty of energy. I’ve used all my battery charge up in the week. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It’s Mr H’s fault, it always is (poor man). Last week he and
two ladies who joined in the same week as we did, managed to get themselves to a tipping
point of one pound short of a stone weight loss. The challenge is on he
declared; we will all cross the line together next week…</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Meanwhile I sat beside him mulling over the fact that I was another 2lb behind them all. I needed 3lb to cross the line holding their hands. Be with them. Together.
A bag and a half of sugar. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKztgAEJn1BPtJwiTpeeKTbj6oQ0Iq2N4Hw4UIJx9GYwhha8QcUO7DIc_hbA9f0tSlciuEk3cyeetfB4iBb7IVzWBuRXjUfti-sCvx5Yqfy8hdN-n8IsqJMDb9mgDxoH37sfRzU4dQ4Wpl/s1600/Bag+of+Sugar.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKztgAEJn1BPtJwiTpeeKTbj6oQ0Iq2N4Hw4UIJx9GYwhha8QcUO7DIc_hbA9f0tSlciuEk3cyeetfB4iBb7IVzWBuRXjUfti-sCvx5Yqfy8hdN-n8IsqJMDb9mgDxoH37sfRzU4dQ4Wpl/s200/Bag+of+Sugar.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like the bag of sugar a heavy lump in my stomach rose up to my chest. Here I am
again I mused, Nowadays I’m always behind. Never in front anymore. The last one
to cross the finishing line… I walk slower, can no longer run. I think and
react like a snail. All because of my damned brain tumour and epilepsy
medication. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Damn them I seeth…</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I come home and work on a plan. <i>Look at the week you lost
7lb</i> Jude suggested, <i>what did you do then</i>. So, I pore over my SW
diary for that week. I decide that I will copy it, eat the same things; the
same amounts.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I also decide to increase my BodyMagic – in other words my
exercise. I am working on a plan to achieve my Silver Fit Award in four weeks,
this is week two. Last week I blew it out of the water; this week I aim to add
another hour; three hours of walking, a mountains worth but, like eating chocolate,
in bite sized chunks.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now those of you who know me, understand what a challenge
walking is for me. I have to think every step, lift left leg, swing foot out (so
as not to trip over my lifeless foot), place it back down then repeat. If I am interrupted
by a friendly hello or a car I stop thinking and trip. Walking is like taking
my brain and body out on a lead. I
should give them a name; Fido or Tripper maybe…</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because I can’t drive, <i>not allowed</i> says the DVLA, I walk
if I need to get to the shop or hairdresser in the village and for many years I
have been doing a weekly exercise class for mostly elderly disabled people. I
call it the Class for Wobbly People. We laugh, sing and dance as much as we exercise.
</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>But this week will be different</i> I say to Mr H. I am
going to double my daily walks. Attempt two fifteen minute walks in the morning then another fifteen
minutes later in the day. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To do this I need my third leg. It keeps my foot up, lessens
the risk of trips and falls. Until recently I haven’t worn it much. Vanity gets
the better of me. I can only wear flat shoes but I like pretty, smiley flat
shoes. The third leg splint demands lace up shoes. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGL7fUboZurQj2ZO2PCawjwD9LAUi4MtWiEV5ei5GAQx1P1M6VEQMgyA4QYLjTj70trEa6aVPOLEvNUV-KhoPthjP9h7tXKRrQcRYUjy23ISmodiDijzubKR0eQkbCV28buWsRRAx_TYu4/s1600/Leg+splint+cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="567" data-original-width="477" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGL7fUboZurQj2ZO2PCawjwD9LAUi4MtWiEV5ei5GAQx1P1M6VEQMgyA4QYLjTj70trEa6aVPOLEvNUV-KhoPthjP9h7tXKRrQcRYUjy23ISmodiDijzubKR0eQkbCV28buWsRRAx_TYu4/s200/Leg+splint+cropped.jpg" width="168" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It starts well, 40 minutes on Tuesday. Tick… the week continues
as planned but I get progressively more tired…</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By Monday morning I have to drag myself out of bed, my legs
follow grumpily. Nooo they plead no more. I have a Dentist appointment so I
deafen my ears to their complaining, force my feet and third leg into the lace
up shoes. And with Mr H by my side, to catch me if the wind blows me off my feet, I
struggle down the hill. The pavements are topsy turvy with pot holes and patches
of sticking plaster tarmac so I walk most of the way in the road.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I couldn't have done anymore...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, Ladies and Gents when I step on the scales today, if it doesn’t
reward me with 3lb off… do not be surprised if I shed a few tears when the
others cross the line without me…</span><br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-63260353996421395472020-01-13T07:13:00.000-08:002020-01-13T07:15:17.389-08:00Claire's Brain Tumour Recovery Journal - A Review<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had the opportunity to review an electronic version of
Claire Bullimore’s Brain Tumour Recovery Journal for the purpose of writing this review.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I came into contact with Claire after my own Meningioma brain
tumour diagnosis in 2008. Our journeys were also similar in that we,
unknowingly, were diagnosed in the same year. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Once I had realised, I would need some longer-term support I
accessed Claire’s wonderful <a href="https://auntymbraintumours.com/" target="_blank">Aunty M Brain Tumours </a>network through Facebook and Twitter.
I also took part in a radio interview with Claire and have since contributed to her blog as
a guest writer. As readers will probably know I started my own blog in 2013 as
part of my journey of recovery. I continue to find writing an incredibly cathartic therapy.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When Claire asked members of her recently established
Facebook group Brain Tumours Bloggers United to review her journal I jumped at
the chance:</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The well designed journal which is 52 pages long, is an aide memoir in
diary format and a mindful prompt for people recovering from or living with a
brain tumour.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Journal costs £10.99 and is<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1704584760" target="_blank"> available from Amazon</a></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At the start two pages
are dedicated to listing <b><i>Important Things To Remember</i></b> including
medication, appointments and doctor and therapists details. This provides the
opportunity to keep essential information in one place, a go to reminder.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I particularly like the next section asking the Journal
keeper to list <b><i>Things that have Frightened Me on My Journey</i></b>. After
a lot of counselling therapy, I now understand the value of writing feelings
down, getting them out of my head, and can see that this simple task would help
so many. I also like the balance of positivity on the page where Claire asks
the journal keeper to document <b><i>Things I Have Overcome And Am Proud of
Myself For.</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">An important list is then provided to prompt self-help and how
to access ongoing support. The subsequent page is a further visual aid memoir to
leaving the house. Since my brain tumour I struggle with my memory and I
can see myself printing or scanning this page from a hard copy and pasting it
on my front and back doors. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Journal then provides space for a monthly planner and I recognise how using it to diarise the <b><i>Things
I Want To Achieve Each Month</i></b> – which is something I rarely plan, would
be an incredibly positive thing to do. Seven pages follow with hourly
slots from 7am to 10pm providing space to plan or record events, feelings and thoughts.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The rest of the Journal is four repeats of the previous 9
pages – providing space for a months planning. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Claire knows only too well that one of the many issues with
recovery is that of memory challenges. Therefore, the journal is a dual tool which
many will find useful to use. The Journal could be used as a paper diary to
record appointments, social events etc, a bit like a Filofax whilst providing
direction for people at any stage of a brain tumour journey. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>A Mindfulness Journal</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">However, I see a
huge benefit in using this journal as a means to focus on emotional and mental
health. I imagine that few of us regularly write down how we are feeling, or what
we want to achieve. The prompts Claire provides suggest this was in her mind
when she wrote it. Indeed on her website she suggests it can be used <i>for strategy
building; somewhere to write down your thoughts and feelings, a recognised
mindfulness exercise to relieve stress and anxiety</i>. By writing things down,
the user would provide themselves with information and memories which they can
subsequently reflect upon as they progress on their journey.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The only criticism I have is that with only a months worth
of pages, it is not clear if Claire would suggest readers copy the pages for
their own use on a longer-term basis or whether it is only meant to be used for
a short period of time. I would also suggest that the journal would benefit
from direction in its use from Claire as is included on her website. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Claire has
also been modest in the journal as she has not included information or links to
her book <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B009B1N8PI/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_taft_p1_i1" target="_blank">A Brain Tumours Travel Tale</a>, support network sites and <a href="https://auntymbraintumours.com/blog/" target="_blank">blog</a> which I feel would help people who
have come across the Journal but know little about Claire.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I applaud Claire for writing this Journal, which, had it
been around at the start of my brain tumour journey, would have helped with my
focus during the early stages of my recovery. </span><br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-89769513629491122052019-11-17T07:52:00.002-08:002019-11-17T07:53:58.283-08:00The Rough and Tumble of Pre-Christmas<br />
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today I am
tearful and I don’t know why then I look at the date and smile. My body knows! </span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Exactly eleven years ago today I drove to work in Cardiff then home again later.
I felt twitchy so I threw on my running gear and closed the back door behind
me. I started on my usual route but half way through a little voice said cut
this one short. And I did. Later that night my life changed. You all know the
story...</span></span><br />
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<br />
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now the run
up to Christmas always leaves me with a tumble of strange emotions. Last
Christmas was no different. In June last year I said goodbye to a dear friend
Jenny because of breast cancer. Then in December I was forced to say a sudden goodbye
to another incredibly special friend Carmel. Needless to say, sending Christmas
cards didn’t feature on my to do list.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am telling
you this as it reminds me that Christmas is a time of reflection as much as it
is about Christmas Trees and gifts…</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Lately
frustration has planted itself on my shopping list. Frustration that I never have enough energy
to tick off even half of the things on my to do list. Frustration that when I
plan to do some writing for my Blog and Book my energy decides otherwise, Frustration
that when out to shop a seizure stops me taking another step: </span></span><i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I stand
like a zombie by the disabled spaces outside Tesco. Hand on a parked car. Mr H is inside ticking off one of our to do’s.
I can see the car but my head won’t let me cross the road and get in. I stand
there leaning on the stranger’s car. After ten minutes my scrambled egg head starts to clear and I move forwards. One faltering step at a time, to get
in our car and wait for my chauffeur.</span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></i><br />
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But I am
lucky as my seizures don’t cause me to fall unconscious. I just feel like I will. My plethora of drugs catch me before I fall. It’s a shame the drugs don’t
stop me tripping over my own feet, or a door tread, or a stone, or a slightly uneven
pavement slab. My knees at the moment look like those of a child who enjoys rough
and tumble in the playground. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But now I’m
complaining and I don’t like to do that. I’ve had another all clear year regarding my brain
tumour and breast cancer so I should be celebrating…</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So I will
bring my thoughts and black and blue knees back to the subject of Christmas… I
am not a particularly religious person, more of a humanist I guess. But this
year Mr H and I have been supported by some fabulous friends and also a Vicar. He
has offered us a guiding hand at a time when we were both in
need. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So as usual I
won’t be buying many gifts. I won’t be pounding the shopping Malls because I
can’t. I will give family what they need most and my friends my time, support and
love. I will donate to our local foodbank, to people who don’t have the basics. I will silently pray in Church on Christmas day. I will be guided by
something or someone in the hope that I am doing the right thing with my gift of life…</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Marcel Proust</i></span></div>
Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-13742878553085178192019-08-19T10:27:00.000-07:002019-08-19T10:27:29.229-07:00Three Legs<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I am going to wear my leg today</i> I declare with a
grin, <i>take two sticks</i>… </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Good idea</i> Mr H replies</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It might help with the rocks, stop my foot from rolling
over, stop me dislocating my ankle. </span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>It’s worth a try but remember its tricky out there</i> he
says with a frown. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We pull on our waterproof coats to shield us from the English
holiday drizzle, Mr H locks the cottage door.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The walk along the marine parade is easy enough, one foot
and stick in front of the other just like my childhood ballet classes, left arm
– and stick - right foot, right arm – and stick – left foot…</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My paralysed left foot is held aloft by my splint which out
of vanity I rarely wear. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once we reach the rock filled beach I pause, hesitate, turn
to Mr H with a nervous smile;</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqWTbjekUSxz8CbeqDfoVWhNfRpzJmmN5QFKpqoMoBNhnoo85aCoIWEj6SpgY_W54FkiIcxGi9fEfXLN56l6YJr4AafXvIXPDn7MoEj_YM7M2PlphXeiZCCZyOoUIAXuHhbXW88DUNMdTZ/s1600/P1000590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqWTbjekUSxz8CbeqDfoVWhNfRpzJmmN5QFKpqoMoBNhnoo85aCoIWEj6SpgY_W54FkiIcxGi9fEfXLN56l6YJr4AafXvIXPDn7MoEj_YM7M2PlphXeiZCCZyOoUIAXuHhbXW88DUNMdTZ/s320/P1000590.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Its ridiculous I say, I walked the Grand Canyon, climbed
mountain after mountain, jumped out of an aeroplane but now a beach full of
rocks makes my legs tremble</span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Take it step by step</i> Mr H says as I grab his arm to
steady myself as I encounter the first wobbly, slippy rock. <i>I’ll tread the
path in front of you and you can follow in my footsteps. </i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I follow as my feet sink into the shiny, silvery shingle</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha05Oc7GYuSvhyphenhyphencYXCArCxRbswPbYinO8zZoyD1Y1L0T7MXp33o1wBBo27VyT_RfaEf3JWhCFLxbL8SWkX45Y7YvXBAJME-0biB7lEqatVd8m8DvK3tHSy7I82xqtwWrlet4oNfYb5Q7Z4/s1600/P1000603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha05Oc7GYuSvhyphenhyphencYXCArCxRbswPbYinO8zZoyD1Y1L0T7MXp33o1wBBo27VyT_RfaEf3JWhCFLxbL8SWkX45Y7YvXBAJME-0biB7lEqatVd8m8DvK3tHSy7I82xqtwWrlet4oNfYb5Q7Z4/s320/P1000603.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>This is Ok </i>I say as I pause to regain my balance and
watch as the tide slowly retreats into the murky sea exposing flat, safe, brown
sand</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But as we reach the larger rocks, I stumble, my left foot
turns over on every rock despite the third leg. I abandon my second stick and
instead cling onto Mr H’s arm as he guides me as safely as possible step by
step, rock by rock…</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Let’s aim for the sand as the tide retreats, </i>I say reluctantly. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Walk diagonally </i>Mr H tells me<i>, it reduces the
camber and the slope. </i></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-mosE0A3TykbUrDeoD_lzRTe4HUOrUhVOnUdMUvBZA3aQ-61uH0JYJzo7qeBBRm90jKUN3vig_gVdJsDkGGvlauX_qexAVGNZX8fl5GBL53odkU6cZ8xkE9YhyShGzH9sOpsfcGTbKMr/s1600/three+legs+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-mosE0A3TykbUrDeoD_lzRTe4HUOrUhVOnUdMUvBZA3aQ-61uH0JYJzo7qeBBRm90jKUN3vig_gVdJsDkGGvlauX_qexAVGNZX8fl5GBL53odkU6cZ8xkE9YhyShGzH9sOpsfcGTbKMr/s320/three+legs+2.JPG" width="240" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-mosE0A3TykbUrDeoD_lzRTe4HUOrUhVOnUdMUvBZA3aQ-61uH0JYJzo7qeBBRm90jKUN3vig_gVdJsDkGGvlauX_qexAVGNZX8fl5GBL53odkU6cZ8xkE9YhyShGzH9sOpsfcGTbKMr/s1600/three+legs+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Safely on the sand I look sideways at all the huge wet boulders
I want to climb over, I watch enviously as young and old holiday makers spring
from rock to rock. Even though Mr H could do the same he never leaves my side</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I tread cautiously over seaweed covered flat brown rock now
exposed by the retreating sea. I spot sea anemones, crawling crabs and something
bobbing up and down out at sea…</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIqV3AbfadPBI6rjLaEc2z9f3V9ybRlckTDpM0n5XlQBOHwBi4g0rg7rpI3IuvgvMyNj_K44c3SOAaRDgF43-WOp8kyQ4Rhd9oCB4YbB3SGInp3ehv53u0tKe7ICK2SLORpkRTNL9kdWmB/s1600/P1000608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIqV3AbfadPBI6rjLaEc2z9f3V9ybRlckTDpM0n5XlQBOHwBi4g0rg7rpI3IuvgvMyNj_K44c3SOAaRDgF43-WOp8kyQ4Rhd9oCB4YbB3SGInp3ehv53u0tKe7ICK2SLORpkRTNL9kdWmB/s320/P1000608.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>It’s a seal</i> I squeal but when Mr H checks with his
binoculars he realises the <i>seal</i> is not moving. <i>It’s a stone, a rock</i>
he tells me and I walk on, my shoulders hunched in concentration. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I stop after every few steps, pause, look around, breathe
deeply. I let the ozone, seaweed smell of the seashore slither into my lungs.
My hunched shoulders drop and my breathing becomes deeper and slower. I stay in
the moment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I scan the surrounding rocks, rocks within my reach, for any signs of prehistoric life. Worn away fossils have left their circular mark but
their details have long ago been washed out to sea by the turning tide.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I glance again at the unclimbable rocks, turn to Mr H with a
resigned smile, <i>its not going to happen is it. </i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I don’t think so </i>he replies as his mouth curls up
with an understanding smile.</span><i></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I look around once more, then turn to tread the stone filled
shingle beach back towards the marine parade …</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Tomorrow we will try three legs on more solid terrain</i> Mr H suggests... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and by doing so we are rewarded, not by a fossil but with a stunning orchid hidden in a wild flower meadow...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzh98dlwGv5njhbfriW5-WpaSJB8ePxGwD4sBv0xHt1p5B9aan9OOreqrfQaOgx0xzBBnmOlSG0roy-p58d0dq0iZHGaPQKyNaXCeGZB8ZbLsDXJkkLXSiveTbIqBJhLFZEPETqiSsRa1k/s1600/P1010252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzh98dlwGv5njhbfriW5-WpaSJB8ePxGwD4sBv0xHt1p5B9aan9OOreqrfQaOgx0xzBBnmOlSG0roy-p58d0dq0iZHGaPQKyNaXCeGZB8ZbLsDXJkkLXSiveTbIqBJhLFZEPETqiSsRa1k/s200/P1010252.JPG" width="150" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhI-2vNJJPvpvQlayd5cWUUpaoXCXx4Esl4SD4K-g2kYjWp1_2piVCzpcy3asEAOcuJutxpslXqSIBDyYuAPhworvm9UcgOsXV1JN8H2CkF3oCT2itCiyNbuqAv3ehysbuV5vjt9OWlZRZ/s1600/P1010251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhI-2vNJJPvpvQlayd5cWUUpaoXCXx4Esl4SD4K-g2kYjWp1_2piVCzpcy3asEAOcuJutxpslXqSIBDyYuAPhworvm9UcgOsXV1JN8H2CkF3oCT2itCiyNbuqAv3ehysbuV5vjt9OWlZRZ/s200/P1010251.JPG" width="150" /></a></span></div>
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<br /></div>
</i></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When defeat comes, accept it as a signal that your plans are not sound, rebuild those plans, and set sail once more toward your coveted goal</span></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Napoleon Hill</span></i></div>
<i></i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
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Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-28750423804977506142019-06-01T11:53:00.003-07:002019-06-01T11:53:48.797-07:00Sunshine and Scrambled Eggs<br />
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<span style="font-family: calibri;">The only sound is a chorus of frantic tweets as baby
goldfinches are fed by their parents eager to show them how to find their own food
and water. A smile curls on my lips as I sit and listen. I am surrounded by the
music of nature. Distant chatter of neighbours enjoying the sunshine is subdued
by this joyful sound.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPeDiaShRshm7lqbNOq0ElQVVNE0Bp-Hj7OhLbf3pJ86UhuAFEXLHAuGvuEsTLTneel-3xVPoaczDs6vEqA6EjTmPSgeiLdg9Z4Qiu2FW7KCnGieu0-CK-FuWbCT8CJm4Fo1r6wVD8Ymeg/s1600/P1010158+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><span style="font-family: calibri;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: calibri;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3c_DimGzA_3-lS13QwvW_G8TE-Bv6K1CbzbSw04J5FpKBMdhq6tNWCENWiXslZPpryddkjd6S-LDbcKAJPWZUdw5mwL-FGMUv5QwEvMBSpdoR-OjV5XLmMlkf-llxcTxdOpKR8vzqkXj/s1600/P1010165+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 16px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3c_DimGzA_3-lS13QwvW_G8TE-Bv6K1CbzbSw04J5FpKBMdhq6tNWCENWiXslZPpryddkjd6S-LDbcKAJPWZUdw5mwL-FGMUv5QwEvMBSpdoR-OjV5XLmMlkf-llxcTxdOpKR8vzqkXj/s1600/P1010165+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><img border="0" data-original-height="1286" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3c_DimGzA_3-lS13QwvW_G8TE-Bv6K1CbzbSw04J5FpKBMdhq6tNWCENWiXslZPpryddkjd6S-LDbcKAJPWZUdw5mwL-FGMUv5QwEvMBSpdoR-OjV5XLmMlkf-llxcTxdOpKR8vzqkXj/s200/P1010165+%25282%2529.JPG" width="200" /><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3c_DimGzA_3-lS13QwvW_G8TE-Bv6K1CbzbSw04J5FpKBMdhq6tNWCENWiXslZPpryddkjd6S-LDbcKAJPWZUdw5mwL-FGMUv5QwEvMBSpdoR-OjV5XLmMlkf-llxcTxdOpKR8vzqkXj/s1600/P1010165+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: calibri;">I lift my camera each time a different bird flits onto the
water feature to catch some of the cool trickles on this warm summers day. A
blue- tit swoops onto the fountain and shakes and splashes its wings. If a bird
could smile then this little tit would be gaily grinning as it swishes in the
water. I grin too. </span><span style="font-family: calibri;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEC77dSJoXMVQ0fyiISlmAIzGPO9p_-N2iL3FLCixaeezYBpuVRDGtxQDZgQrZ8laJTM47Ai7OKHV3W_waUNB3tyN2BjZEQWlNJM4vMJbrly0nq9bO80sODu6Mb4NKKGDh-o_Rg48rOvvB/s1600/P1010154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEC77dSJoXMVQ0fyiISlmAIzGPO9p_-N2iL3FLCixaeezYBpuVRDGtxQDZgQrZ8laJTM47Ai7OKHV3W_waUNB3tyN2BjZEQWlNJM4vMJbrly0nq9bO80sODu6Mb4NKKGDh-o_Rg48rOvvB/s200/P1010154.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: calibri;">Another familiar song drifts into the branches of our golden
bamboo. I listen. A juvenile robin takes its turn and stands with water
dripping off its beak…<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEC77dSJoXMVQ0fyiISlmAIzGPO9p_-N2iL3FLCixaeezYBpuVRDGtxQDZgQrZ8laJTM47Ai7OKHV3W_waUNB3tyN2BjZEQWlNJM4vMJbrly0nq9bO80sODu6Mb4NKKGDh-o_Rg48rOvvB/s1600/P1010154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEC77dSJoXMVQ0fyiISlmAIzGPO9p_-N2iL3FLCixaeezYBpuVRDGtxQDZgQrZ8laJTM47Ai7OKHV3W_waUNB3tyN2BjZEQWlNJM4vMJbrly0nq9bO80sODu6Mb4NKKGDh-o_Rg48rOvvB/s1600/P1010154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: calibri;">A blackbird hops along the lawn looking for dropped
sunflower seeds as the inexperienced feeders miss their own beaks. He too then jumps into the water like a child wanting its turn in the paddling pool… </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: calibri;">I have no idea of time. No idea how long I sit and listen.
And watch mesmerised as these wonders of nature gracefully and musically shower
my afternoon with mindful joy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: calibri;">It has been a tricky week. A week of more seizures and hospital
visits. A week of stress and new tablets. I am having to swap one of my epilepsy
drugs which I have been on for eleven years. I am scared. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: calibri;">I am swapping because, like the number of birds in our
garden, my seizures have dramatically increased. Waves of nausea, a scrambled
egg brain and tears roll on and on like waves in the sea. When I rest, my left
leg is shaken by electric shock tremors which shoot through my foot. Strange
whooshes often disturb my calmness as they pass through my brain like a soundless train; in one
ear and out the other… </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: calibri;">And my stomach-churning fear of the dreaded tonic clonic seizures
deciding to take their turn is as constant as these baby birds hunger.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: calibri;">So how ever much time I have spent sitting, listening and
watching the birds. I thank them for the gift of stillness they have given me
today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: calibri;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWlFHPB-VGN20S2DjaA5z0jygVOAI_O8MPmqQERnGvYavJQAU-0TA-qP3fX2OjGsxbXU0f2lxM1h8xbD49l-dYXU8DcwCOXL2rBd7_7VeKsFRI9_UK4x8H4lwq18XxJSsNrGXxW-3liOsW/s1600/P1010167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWlFHPB-VGN20S2DjaA5z0jygVOAI_O8MPmqQERnGvYavJQAU-0TA-qP3fX2OjGsxbXU0f2lxM1h8xbD49l-dYXU8DcwCOXL2rBd7_7VeKsFRI9_UK4x8H4lwq18XxJSsNrGXxW-3liOsW/s320/P1010167.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: calibri;"></span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: calibri;"></span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-37788535963225845452019-04-07T08:15:00.001-07:002019-04-07T08:18:35.683-07:00Together We Matter - Unashamed Pride<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>You are amazing</i> I tell my friend Julie as I sit by her side at the computer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This feedback is incredible I grin.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As two bereaved Mums, <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Julie and Josie</span> are reviewing the comments made by Nurses, Medical Consultants and charity workers who have attended one of their workshops. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0jSSRsbDisDfb-dOR4h1l1clmKfMT_Tc5bxAYgcCF2ZT7fKsHTolG6zDXhzrGiNC8U34UrNrMTkSeT2kFDL1Yj9wPfhVVWLMTfv3YYj7uqx0r1vyIkkDTIbUAOip5XLlldpGmm4D7j1R/s1600/Julie+K.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0jSSRsbDisDfb-dOR4h1l1clmKfMT_Tc5bxAYgcCF2ZT7fKsHTolG6zDXhzrGiNC8U34UrNrMTkSeT2kFDL1Yj9wPfhVVWLMTfv3YYj7uqx0r1vyIkkDTIbUAOip5XLlldpGmm4D7j1R/s1600/Julie+K.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="522" data-original-width="640" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0jSSRsbDisDfb-dOR4h1l1clmKfMT_Tc5bxAYgcCF2ZT7fKsHTolG6zDXhzrGiNC8U34UrNrMTkSeT2kFDL1Yj9wPfhVVWLMTfv3YYj7uqx0r1vyIkkDTIbUAOip5XLlldpGmm4D7j1R/s320/Julie+K.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">They developed their interactive workshops to provide insight into the challenges facing families caring for children born with incurable medical conditions.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVEtbbbrmsKeWOABh4H0f-9oCaEoeoOrpy2zFcxovInnw41YzCqjB1D6dY7TPqHnbzDTtcfM3GDrwaQ274dRyhzhFVS1rTOZSpeRAjYdo_hBgTGj_3moH2Su2K3AJCuCdrEkq9XaXw126Z/s1600/Josie+%2526B-R+shush+who+needs+words.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVEtbbbrmsKeWOABh4H0f-9oCaEoeoOrpy2zFcxovInnw41YzCqjB1D6dY7TPqHnbzDTtcfM3GDrwaQ274dRyhzhFVS1rTOZSpeRAjYdo_hBgTGj_3moH2Su2K3AJCuCdrEkq9XaXw126Z/s320/Josie+%2526B-R+shush+who+needs+words.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It is clear from the feedback that the workshops are beneficial to anyone <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">working with children with life shortening conditions; </span>professional or otherwise: </span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Inspirational</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0jSSRsbDisDfb-dOR4h1l1clmKfMT_Tc5bxAYgcCF2ZT7fKsHTolG6zDXhzrGiNC8U34UrNrMTkSeT2kFDL1Yj9wPfhVVWLMTfv3YYj7uqx0r1vyIkkDTIbUAOip5XLlldpGmm4D7j1R/s1600/Julie+K.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Powerful</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Humbling</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Insightful</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My practice will change</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">These terms jump from the many pages. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This feedback is profound I tell her. Every lecturer aspires to have such an impact when delivering a workshop. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am not surprised as over the last four years of friendship with Julie, I have been inspired by her drive to let her girls lead the way...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Julie and Josie have taken a leap into the unknown, tamed their tigers of fear and nervousness, swept aside their lack of previous healthcare work.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">They are experts by experience. They devoted the short time their children were by their sides to their care. They have been on the other side. Been in receipt of devastating news, however it was delivered. Been in the middle of the most challenging caring role anyone of us could ever imagine. Mixed into their deep pools of experience are examples of good and not so good practice. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But most importantly of all, in their workshops they create a safe space for professionals to ask them, as bereaved parents, questions no one else in their world can answer with such honesty and integrity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So forgive me if I gush and glow with pride when you ask how my friend Julie is...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJuhBsEBygpNM6LqW0MBDDrRvCcnZ6NL2giVzlby_5hngkT5_xUteYCu0caHKwxrtKSCptBn2Y8EDCx83l5IimwlWFCX6oB07i7tGlV8uXbKDoBQMhbFbCussV4FFeabZP3Kw35y3odur8/s1600/IMG_1316+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1131" data-original-width="1600" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJuhBsEBygpNM6LqW0MBDDrRvCcnZ6NL2giVzlby_5hngkT5_xUteYCu0caHKwxrtKSCptBn2Y8EDCx83l5IimwlWFCX6oB07i7tGlV8uXbKDoBQMhbFbCussV4FFeabZP3Kw35y3odur8/s320/IMG_1316+%25283%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You can read more and even purchase a copy of the books they have contributed to on their fabulous website </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.togetherwematter.co.uk/" target="_blank">Together We Matter</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Furthermore... Julie has recently been nominated as one of the Top 100 Women of the West 2019 (of the UK) so I unashamedly ask you to click <a href="https://www.bristolpost.co.uk/news/local-news/here-your-top-100-west-2645211" target="_blank">here </a>and vote for Julie Kembrey a lady I am proud to call my friend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thank you</span><br />
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<br />Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-72047332170763735692019-03-23T05:37:00.002-07:002019-03-23T05:37:46.601-07:00A Smiling Face<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She calls a name</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's not mine</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She grins her familiar grin as another lady stands and walks towards her</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hi I'm Naomi I hear her say</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Five years ago I answered her call, stood up, grabbed my stick and wobbled across to meet her, my reading glasses still perched on my head, my knitting hastily stuffed back into my bag.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I followed her into a room...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Five years. It's such a long time, but as it sit here watching it only feels like yesterday.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp7n42rvANWrIbkCvNVxM4-75_I5ilugAYJ9tuA5npSve0P2rsEj7sfbJci6RGMMbw3EyWbI3cMGIX7B4dtA64muGsNsgO3usvidRHIRDGaAWTn_t8gzl212J63uqeWCGqJdHTLVaFmjOj/s1600/Pizza+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1211" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp7n42rvANWrIbkCvNVxM4-75_I5ilugAYJ9tuA5npSve0P2rsEj7sfbJci6RGMMbw3EyWbI3cMGIX7B4dtA64muGsNsgO3usvidRHIRDGaAWTn_t8gzl212J63uqeWCGqJdHTLVaFmjOj/s200/Pizza+1.jpg" width="165" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's hard to believe that those five years have passed. The whir of diagnosis. Biopsy. Surgery. More results. Chemotherapy. A bald shiny head and never ending nausea. Tattoos for radiotherapy before I popped out at the end of the tunnel with a prescription for Tamoxifen clutched in my pale, shaky hand.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Five years ago. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But this time my heart doesn't pound, nausea doesn't rise in my stomach, my palms are not sweaty.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I breathe easy. No more bad news today when my name is called.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to wave to her and say hello but I know the lady she is seeing needs her uninterrupted attention as she embarks on the journey.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I just smile to myself in the knowledge that the lady is in good hands.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For me today is just a review. Do I want to keep taking the tablets.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Without a doubt I tell my surgeon when he asks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEi1BQ_-Z3rK_Iy42_1-roohNGPiIRhmWIRgCE_IjDRZeYeLe-jse_V3XLnYahjeKOPR5bToRxelXywx2vqHFU_rmn9Xpyc6e-lyiALhcZmoKff7w8CMeEiVU2X5QJhEmAggzMwXDGQg9h/s1600/Tamoxifen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1037" data-original-width="1600" height="129" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEi1BQ_-Z3rK_Iy42_1-roohNGPiIRhmWIRgCE_IjDRZeYeLe-jse_V3XLnYahjeKOPR5bToRxelXywx2vqHFU_rmn9Xpyc6e-lyiALhcZmoKff7w8CMeEiVU2X5QJhEmAggzMwXDGQg9h/s200/Tamoxifen.jpg" width="200" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEi1BQ_-Z3rK_Iy42_1-roohNGPiIRhmWIRgCE_IjDRZeYeLe-jse_V3XLnYahjeKOPR5bToRxelXywx2vqHFU_rmn9Xpyc6e-lyiALhcZmoKff7w8CMeEiVU2X5QJhEmAggzMwXDGQg9h/s1600/Tamoxifen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He reminds me that there is a chance that some cancer still lurks, clutching to cell walls, waiting for its chance to start multiplying again. But the Tamoxifen should stop it. Block it. Halt its troublesome progress.</span><br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So for as long as they'll let me I will continue to swallow the pills.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Meanwhile I will keep making the most of my life full of family and friends. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am Rich with kindness and love. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-84352741979572192772018-11-14T06:36:00.000-08:002018-11-14T06:44:35.302-08:00As the clock strikes one<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As the clock strikes 1am on Sunday 18<sup>th</sup></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> November
I will be sleeping, curled up on my side while Mr H quietly purrs in a deep
sleep beside me.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At the same time in 2008 it was a
different story, Mr H was, with hair pulling terror, trying to shake me awake
from a blue faced, shaking, shuddering black hole I had disappeared into. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A seizure. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My first. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">His first. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Six hours later, drugged on anti-seizure meds, I lay on a
hospital bed. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Mr H was still by my side. Then the news was delivered, which like dynamite was to blow our
world in two.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had a brain tumour. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMyDsO2i95JEParBqve9Gom-EPTSGMHIblY42Ax1YitI9JauQYMTOVpx6epwWEGE0VPJhq1KnxWYZCoawnOe67xVvKxA6vZ5plrAxsW_BD6avumWP0G6_dCSC-x10Ve2_2NgwDHDQ0-IWs/s1600/Tumour+on+CT+18th+Nov+2008+Anon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="371" data-original-width="353" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMyDsO2i95JEParBqve9Gom-EPTSGMHIblY42Ax1YitI9JauQYMTOVpx6epwWEGE0VPJhq1KnxWYZCoawnOe67xVvKxA6vZ5plrAxsW_BD6avumWP0G6_dCSC-x10Ve2_2NgwDHDQ0-IWs/s200/Tumour+on+CT+18th+Nov+2008+Anon.jpg" width="190" /></span></a></div>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ten years ago things were different:</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My weekdays were full of jobs I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">had </i>to
do. Mind blurring meetings; rushing from one ward to another during outbreaks
of infection; driving hundreds of miles from the top to the bottom of Wales. Snatched
lunches gobbled down between jobs to do. Too tired to prepare food from scratch
I threw quick ready meals into the oven at home.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Never a thought for my own health.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But Now <br />
My days are full of things I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">want </i>to
do. I listen with a slow beating heart to the melodic voice of Katie Melua or
Eva Cassidy. Or to the French radio station ABC Lounge music; a tip from my
friend Jenny who recently passed on to a different world. I meditate. I choose when
I sit down at the computer to type. Mr H and I grow some of our own food. I
cook healthy meals from my perching stool in the kitchen. I smile a lot more. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My mental and physical health are now at the top of my virtual
to do list.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ten Years Ago:<br />I climbed mountains and mind buzzing
with work, Mr H and I pounded the streets and paths in our running shoes.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nowadays:<br />
I grin when I feel the breeze on my face as I walk slowly through wind
scattered autumn leaves on a short walk back from the shops. It’s a good day. Unable
to drive, I get the community travel bus, the old ladies’ bus I tell people with
a grin, to my exercise class. A class I do with a group of older gents affected
by Parkinson’s disease who are as wobbly on their feet as me! And on Friday the bus comes again to carry me to choir for two hours of soulful singing amongst my new friends.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ten Years Ago:<br />
I thought I had to keep in touch with everybody, even friends and acquaintances
who made me red faced with anger or wet faced with tears. I rescued people; almost
anyone who asked for my help. I carried other people’s burdens like rocks on
my shoulders. I didn’t have the skills to shake them off. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">I was a nurse, wasn't that what nurses do?</span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now:<br />
I surround myself with Positivity. That doesn’t mean I turn my back on friends
and family in trouble. The exact opposite is true. But through counselling I
have learnt that I don't have to soak up <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">other peoples troubles </span>then carry them around like heavy wet rags. I have learnt
to use my ears more, actively listen; a troubled friend almost always knows the
answers to their problems. It just helps to have someone actually listen for a
change. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ten Years Ago:<br />
Mr H and I were already a unit. In love; Joined together through love and respect. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today<br />
We are Mr and Mrs and my heart swells with pride when he walks into a room. He
is a gentleman, his Mum taught him that. His respectful pride in me oozes out
of his every pore. I am proud of what he achieves; his integrity is as strong
as an ox. We have been through a tsunami of challenges but hand in hand, we surf
them together. We are bonded by a respectful love which is deeper than any
ocean. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am lucky</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We are lucky</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i>"And like the flowers in the fields, that make wonderful views, when we stand side-by-side in our wonderful hues...</i></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">W</span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i>e all make a beauty so wonderfully true.</i></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i>We are special and different, and just the same too!</i></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i>So whenever you look at your beautiful skin, from your wiggling toes to your giggling grin...</i></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i>Think how lucky you are that the skin you live in, so beautifully holds the 'YOU' who's within"</i></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i>Michael Tyler, The Skin You Live In</i></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<i></i><br /></div>
Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-59418277023799619632018-08-31T02:11:00.000-07:002018-08-31T02:11:08.307-07:00Finding Feathers<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On a Saturday evening in May 2012, like a snowflake, a tiny
white feather drifts down and settles on my knee. A shiver runs up my
spine as I sit gazing at the feather while I listen to a beautiful rendition of
Vivaldi’s Four Seasons which fills the Church of Santa Maria Dela Pieta in
Venice. </span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Jon I think with a sad smile. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDr86EVVWGmRA1itF1tgYzem3Gj4tmyDKIBO-fi9ovEJEJaUh-60kA0DX1r43iJBsEImPTJHlxADLXkZKChKAn3otT0GcttPV22txleoKyfiRfqAeHV_UpNyAiNi21nkAsiNPF9wxp1vN_/s1600/white+feather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="327" data-original-width="437" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDr86EVVWGmRA1itF1tgYzem3Gj4tmyDKIBO-fi9ovEJEJaUh-60kA0DX1r43iJBsEImPTJHlxADLXkZKChKAn3otT0GcttPV22txleoKyfiRfqAeHV_UpNyAiNi21nkAsiNPF9wxp1vN_/s200/white+feather.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On July 31<sup>st</sup></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 2018 after two days away to say <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">see you
in my memories and dreams</i> to a dear friend I arrive home<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">.</span></span> Sitting on the floor beside the
door is another white fluffy feather. Jenny I whisper as I stoop to pick it up
and lay it gently on the worktop.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ2fmz2o2m0zyHiWKlImrCN0l2oVn-seoKuHR0qXnuqY1LSayZ6vfdDX4kaXIAYHhdDtdh0Yx_Qm5dMDBehhBCl3wCfmIi7P1TA2SLAAFkhztbwTIzqKFBf-P87apkkPa495TcIEKzxiyH/s1600/Wood+Feather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="583" data-original-width="184" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ2fmz2o2m0zyHiWKlImrCN0l2oVn-seoKuHR0qXnuqY1LSayZ6vfdDX4kaXIAYHhdDtdh0Yx_Qm5dMDBehhBCl3wCfmIi7P1TA2SLAAFkhztbwTIzqKFBf-P87apkkPa495TcIEKzxiyH/s320/Wood+Feather.jpg" width="100" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In August during a weekend trip to the British Birdwatching fair I stop my mobility scooter with a jerk in the Art Marquee when I spot
beautiful feathers sculpted from wood. The artist <a href="http://www.tagsmith.co.uk/feathers/4593598556" target="_blank">Tom (T.A.G) Smith</a> has
captured the curves of the feathery fronds and the changes in shade and colour
by the use of different woods. Mr H and I gawp open mouthed at such curious
creativity. Beside the wondrous wooden feathers is a sculpted owl face, its
wide eyes stare, unblinking at us with a twit twoo grin. We move closer. My
eyes twist and turn to feast on each feather on display; from a gigantic Golden Eagle to a fine, tiny, Goldfinch feather. We chat to bearded Tom while
surrounded by these precious pieces of art. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Later we return and pluck a brown
and cream Buzzards feather, displayed on Purpleheart wood, from his stand for our wedding anniversary gift to
each other.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ2fmz2o2m0zyHiWKlImrCN0l2oVn-seoKuHR0qXnuqY1LSayZ6vfdDX4kaXIAYHhdDtdh0Yx_Qm5dMDBehhBCl3wCfmIi7P1TA2SLAAFkhztbwTIzqKFBf-P87apkkPa495TcIEKzxiyH/s1600/Wood+Feather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">n the afternoon at the far end of Marquee Two, a purple book
cover catches my eye:<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> Mrs Pankhurst’s
Purple Feather</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fashion Fury and
Feminism – Women’s fight for change</i>. I park my scooter to get a closer
look. </span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlHgnPNjbmVtCq7gBXB21yU2ApFKAJKqyNuHJ_XTozGPvdUXKTmvIXPiSn3VNhauo_nVEr9fw0Dl5jgorglubOzjBM6P8p1WveerUrOp65FQGGONHmWaz6BOkSIZ-kmrCsAsNpxBGa-thO/s1600/Purple+Feather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlHgnPNjbmVtCq7gBXB21yU2ApFKAJKqyNuHJ_XTozGPvdUXKTmvIXPiSn3VNhauo_nVEr9fw0Dl5jgorglubOzjBM6P8p1WveerUrOp65FQGGONHmWaz6BOkSIZ-kmrCsAsNpxBGa-thO/s1600/Purple+Feather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlHgnPNjbmVtCq7gBXB21yU2ApFKAJKqyNuHJ_XTozGPvdUXKTmvIXPiSn3VNhauo_nVEr9fw0Dl5jgorglubOzjBM6P8p1WveerUrOp65FQGGONHmWaz6BOkSIZ-kmrCsAsNpxBGa-thO/s200/Purple+Feather.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlHgnPNjbmVtCq7gBXB21yU2ApFKAJKqyNuHJ_XTozGPvdUXKTmvIXPiSn3VNhauo_nVEr9fw0Dl5jgorglubOzjBM6P8p1WveerUrOp65FQGGONHmWaz6BOkSIZ-kmrCsAsNpxBGa-thO/s1600/Purple+Feather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I open the hard-backed book and read the first few lines. I am hooked and
watch like a hawk as the cashier handles my purchase. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The following morning <span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline !important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Mr H and I sit
and listen to the author of Mrs Pankhurst's Purple Feather </span><a href="http://tessaboase.com/books/" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" target="_blank">Tessa Boase</a> in
the Harrier Lecture Marquee. My blood bubbles with indignation as Tessa tells the vivid story involving fashion, the
slaughter of birds and the four unacknowledged female founders of the RSPB. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">T</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">heir </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">fight was fought at the same time as the suffragettes but was in direct
opposition to the real purple Ostrich feather which Mrs Pankhurst chose to
adorn her hat. During the 1800s and early 1900s, millions of wild
birds were slaughtered all over the world to provide milliners with the birds heads,
bodies, wings and feathers with which ladies chose to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">decorate</i> their hats. As I turn the pages of <i>The Purple Feather</i> I learn that Emily Williamson set up the Society for the
Protection of Birds in 1889 and was joined in 1891 by Etta Lemon, Eliza
Phillips, Hannah Poland and Winifred, Duchess of Portland. Together they campaigned to stop this slaughter of
birds, many of which, by this stage, were near to extinction.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEqYatZ3sXV7aq6lP9TCZgyOLjzGBZgA-otlGw8dzahYQIFyx_Y8RpTfIG_Ttt0D_sbgiQ94GgYBzB5q2ox5hdGtxEyAzfdWzXdJDK8l7x5ZsNLn5QAnFoDuz0NTVs-piNORnW0WvZyxlk/s1600/P1000760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEqYatZ3sXV7aq6lP9TCZgyOLjzGBZgA-otlGw8dzahYQIFyx_Y8RpTfIG_Ttt0D_sbgiQ94GgYBzB5q2ox5hdGtxEyAzfdWzXdJDK8l7x5ZsNLn5QAnFoDuz0NTVs-piNORnW0WvZyxlk/s200/P1000760.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On Saturday evening we stand
at the edge of the calm waters of Rutland Lake. We are waiting to board the Rutland
Belle for an ‘Osprey cruise’ with Naturalist Simon King. As we sail out onto
the water the wind picks up so these once near extinct birds stay tucked
into trees. But we ooh and ahh as common Terns spiral into dives for their fish
supper and watch while little white Egrets paddle at the water’s edge adorned with
black beaks and yellow shoes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As dusk descends, almost an hour passes before Simon calls out <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Osprey over the damn ahead</i>. Our heads
snap up and a boat full of binoculars eagerly peer ahead at the white and brown
swooping bird until it flies into the distance...</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On Sunday, once again we stop at <a href="http://www.tagsmith.co.uk/feathers/4593598556" target="_blank">Tom’s stand in the Art Marquee to stare at his exquisitely detailed wooden feathers</a>. I pull out my credit card as I can no
longer resist Mr H’s imploring gaze. It’s your birthday present I tell him as
we walk away with his beautifully crafted Golden Eagle feather carefully
wrapped. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On our way home we dip into Lyndon Nature Reserve for a last
sight of the Ospreys; this once virtually extinct species are here because of
the <a href="http://www.ospreys.org.uk/" target="_blank">Rutland Osprey Project</a>. In a hide we peer through scopes at a male and female
with their last chick who sits silently still on a fallen tree preparing for
its first solo flight to Africa. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYSOYeTaN1lN46NFwUZ_CQ1m5D-INVzHH5YcERXPHxfaaZS-PickWnRT0kAK-wfyjf-9dc9jDMKyHzuqrd9ug2XFLBskfHeul_xTMkNqfUNSmS9mSMIMuhs2M7kLFMeco9rBVMProLYWs-/s1600/Feather+group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYSOYeTaN1lN46NFwUZ_CQ1m5D-INVzHH5YcERXPHxfaaZS-PickWnRT0kAK-wfyjf-9dc9jDMKyHzuqrd9ug2XFLBskfHeul_xTMkNqfUNSmS9mSMIMuhs2M7kLFMeco9rBVMProLYWs-/s1600/Feather+group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="458" data-original-width="611" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYSOYeTaN1lN46NFwUZ_CQ1m5D-INVzHH5YcERXPHxfaaZS-PickWnRT0kAK-wfyjf-9dc9jDMKyHzuqrd9ug2XFLBskfHeul_xTMkNqfUNSmS9mSMIMuhs2M7kLFMeco9rBVMProLYWs-/s200/Feather+group.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYSOYeTaN1lN46NFwUZ_CQ1m5D-INVzHH5YcERXPHxfaaZS-PickWnRT0kAK-wfyjf-9dc9jDMKyHzuqrd9ug2XFLBskfHeul_xTMkNqfUNSmS9mSMIMuhs2M7kLFMeco9rBVMProLYWs-/s1600/Feather+group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Walking back to the centre I stoop many times
to pick up grey, black and white silken feathers dropped by their owners as they moult. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYN5Y6GU96q3UV0HeRFiQTPp1iTON4g0Q9sfczITEfNS60jh5P1Uz1e4bx02lBAP0MxqAqB4-rGiBgladtiY41hvJJ9WLPUJS_p9WKYW41JgbfWXz9nuAVkyKKOAEsy-WGIW6IawKUg9O/s1600/Pretty+feather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYN5Y6GU96q3UV0HeRFiQTPp1iTON4g0Q9sfczITEfNS60jh5P1Uz1e4bx02lBAP0MxqAqB4-rGiBgladtiY41hvJJ9WLPUJS_p9WKYW41JgbfWXz9nuAVkyKKOAEsy-WGIW6IawKUg9O/s1600/Pretty+feather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYN5Y6GU96q3UV0HeRFiQTPp1iTON4g0Q9sfczITEfNS60jh5P1Uz1e4bx02lBAP0MxqAqB4-rGiBgladtiY41hvJJ9WLPUJS_p9WKYW41JgbfWXz9nuAVkyKKOAEsy-WGIW6IawKUg9O/s1600/Pretty+feather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="589" data-original-width="442" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimYN5Y6GU96q3UV0HeRFiQTPp1iTON4g0Q9sfczITEfNS60jh5P1Uz1e4bx02lBAP0MxqAqB4-rGiBgladtiY41hvJJ9WLPUJS_p9WKYW41JgbfWXz9nuAVkyKKOAEsy-WGIW6IawKUg9O/s320/Pretty+feather.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The last feather I
swoop up has a gloriously multi coloured tip. We gaze at its splash of blue,
dots of rust brown and white and guess which bird it is from. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I imagine a
feather such as this was often plucked from a slaughtered bird to be worn on a
hat.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i><br /></i></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i>Let me be as a feather</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i>Strong with purpose Yet light at heart,</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i>Able to bend.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i>And, Tho I might become frayed,</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i>Able to pull myself together again.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="margin: 0px;"><i>Anita Sams</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-45062616544043562372018-07-27T07:45:00.001-07:002018-07-27T10:35:31.460-07:00Leaving Doors Open<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Yesterday a friend I have known for thirty years visited. I
hadn’t hugged her for five or six; I see her smile on FaceTime, her voice on
the phone and she reads my Blogs but we live some distance apart. I should have
made more effort I think, as her familiar face pops into view when she walks
into our green, bamboo swishing garden. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Her daughters have grown, they remember
their last visit well. I let the young girls loose with a box full of ribbon,
furry bits and pieces and labels to wrap a few presents. Put as much on as you
want I smiled. They burrowed their heads in paper and glitter while Mr H told
them stories about climbing mount Everest from the inside.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today we sit in the garden and with grinning faces the six
of us chat about life while munching on homemade rhubarb and carrot cake. They are whizzing
around on a whistle stop goodbye tour. Off to Australia, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">we’re not sure how long</i> Michelle replies when I ask. Richard adds, with glares from his daughters, many say they don’t return<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">.</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I hate goodbyes</i>
Michelle says as they get up to leave. <i>Let’s Facetime in August </i>I say <i>then we can still chat and see each other. And
who knows you may even answer your Australian door one day to another hug</i>. </span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">I
leave the door open…</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Even so I watch with
a lump in my throat, as their car disappears out of view but walk inside with a contented smile as I know I will see them again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Whenever I go to see my 86 year young Mum, friends or
family, as I leave I say I love you, I will ring you later. See you soon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">I leave the door
open…</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">Earlier this year I blogged about a <a href="http://mindthegapa-z.blogspot.com/2018/03/stuff.html" target="_blank">shopping trip with my friend Jenny</a>. Mr H and I met Jenny during a tropical storm. We were visiting gardens in St Vincent in the Caribbean and the rain fell without warning as
though someone was pouring warm buckets of water over our heads. Amidst loud parakeet
sounding laughter most ran for shelter. I didn’t, couldn’t, and therefore neither
did Mr H. Behind us were two ladies who also couldn’t run, their knees stopped
them. They were Jenny and Lyn and giggling we ambled along together as the rain soaked through to our knickers. We spent the rest of our sun and laughter filled
cruise in the company of these bubbly ladies.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">But sadness was tucked behind the smiling photograph of Jenny
and I on our shopping trip. Jenny’s breast cancer had returned and like bind weed, had rapidly spread. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIxxDatskEgTAhVH-SY-zeWitmfQROdOYocx9vRIlRUuZWTpESVojRvMGab9U9MlZtcTvzNW50CNe60mQ4Xbpl1v1mYKoReWSTQM5mWCmcaRTiu3cH-V3RCyLmtcaJp0P3CkU9HE2gI9H/s1600/Dawn+and+Jenny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIxxDatskEgTAhVH-SY-zeWitmfQROdOYocx9vRIlRUuZWTpESVojRvMGab9U9MlZtcTvzNW50CNe60mQ4Xbpl1v1mYKoReWSTQM5mWCmcaRTiu3cH-V3RCyLmtcaJp0P3CkU9HE2gI9H/s200/Dawn+and+Jenny.jpg" width="150" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">During the last few months Jenny often asked me for advice and
I reached out with my listening ears. When I couldn’t be with her we Facetimed while she was living with her daughter or staying at her sons. <i>Your
word is gospel</i><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> Liz her daughter in law kept saying each time we spoke about
some element of Jenny’s care. Jenny trusts you. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We Facetimed as I sat on the beach on holiday so Jenny could
hear and see the sea. I sent her a video of waves gently swishing on the pebble
beach, she used it to get to sleep. I tried to bottle the salty smell of the sea in a jam
jar to take to her bedside...</span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTx5ntfHCxR-lavs5sVlk-yT4-s2QhR7Ie19NsdnrHaq9Vjp6Gp8IohtlBvvYFvksslv5X7HNtpBv33vGTbe98M-alt7VETPfy6EcOI-YXVAbHXMB4uu7n4nLTBKwvr0VNojNju0My3Bp/s1600/P1000577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTx5ntfHCxR-lavs5sVlk-yT4-s2QhR7Ie19NsdnrHaq9Vjp6Gp8IohtlBvvYFvksslv5X7HNtpBv33vGTbe98M-alt7VETPfy6EcOI-YXVAbHXMB4uu7n4nLTBKwvr0VNojNju0My3Bp/s200/P1000577.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">When Mr H and I visited after our holiday, I sat on her hospital
bed in the spare room of her sons house while I rubbed soothing hand cream into
her frail thin skin. We held hands as we talked about Cockleshell
beach in St Kitts and how Jenny had held <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my</i>
hand to get me safely into the warm shallow sea. How we dug discarded pink and
cream conch shells out of the white sandy dunes. How we walked through market
stalls looking </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">for our <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">jewellery</i> made
from local shells. How we watched in utter disbelief and then hugged with delight as whales butted our boat on a trip around Dominique.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGoOl_jkSlKz4MaYjSlb_lypQHNOOX10hAmOc7mRWNoRtrHcb8vDhrhtMn9qMSK4CrCFZon3oi2zn5AqMIg1hsTXUpJflSthmGMLQ5jR-z1h4JBheOg-XWG9cxlgiFXkIQCvawr9H-ZbD8/s1600/IMG_1467v2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="934" data-original-width="1488" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGoOl_jkSlKz4MaYjSlb_lypQHNOOX10hAmOc7mRWNoRtrHcb8vDhrhtMn9qMSK4CrCFZon3oi2zn5AqMIg1hsTXUpJflSthmGMLQ5jR-z1h4JBheOg-XWG9cxlgiFXkIQCvawr9H-ZbD8/s320/IMG_1467v2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">As Jenny's eye lids drooped with fatigue I stood up to leave, I
hugged her and we kissed.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I love you Jenny. I will FaceTime you</i> I
said. Jenny smiled then closed her eyes as sleep swept her into dreams.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">But I left the door open…</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">I woke early on Wednesday as a message gently slid onto the
screen of my phone;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jenny is at peace now</i>
Liz wrote…</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><i>Life is not always about saying Goodbye then closing the
door.</i></span></div>
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</div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><i>It is also about walking through life while leaving doors open…</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><i>God Bless Jenny I'll see you in my memories and dreams x</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span>
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Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-28977210691955678672018-07-25T02:28:00.000-07:002018-07-26T06:21:08.013-07:00Brain Blancmange<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I grab Mr H's handrail arm as I cautiously step out of a café into the golden, bright blue sky day. The heat bites into my shoulders with its sharp teeth as we amble down the hill on narrow, knobbly pavements. I try not to step into the busy road as we pass shops crammed with curios and cakes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My walking is slower than my normal snail stepping speed and I mutter to Mr H:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>My head feels like wobbly blancmange</i>. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>My brain is mushed. Its three steps behind me</i> I say as I glance behind and with a hesitant step hope that it will catch me up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I clasp Mr H's arm tighter as we cross the road. My head droops. A concentrated frown fixed to my face. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will my brain to follow me, catch me up. I can't lose it. Leave it behind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mr H leads me into a second hand bookshop. It is so full of books, comics, old typewriters, even a harpsichord my blancmange like brain decides to stay at the door. I stumble past books piled on the floor. My eyes dart from corner to corner, shelf to shelf desperate to find a chair.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I need to sit</i> I whisper.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Now</i>!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mr H scans the shop but can only locate a set of old wooden steps. I perch on the third rung. Stare blankly at the floor as the blancmange spreads into every crevice and crinkle of my brain. My stomach rises into my chest. I call this familiar feeling nausea. </span><br />
<i></i><i></i><i></i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I stare at Mr H's red freckled legs as he stands protectively by my side. <i>How do you feel</i> he asks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Awful</span></i><br />
<i></i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sick...</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /></i>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I sweep my dusty hand across my forehead. Pull my hair away from my skull. Lift my head and glance at the doorway. Fresh air.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A clock ticks away five minutes. Ten. I slowly ease my head off my shoulders. Look around. The corners of my mouth twitch into the start of a smile. My brain wafts through the door and slips back into place and...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXx0GQ-gxpPs4LLMTWeK1h0pB19i8Y-eH9NvE-rDffZBSShyphenhyphenYe5mPH8EV_1_5vIFIwyJJzzaXZ2ckTwASkjDSKXWlWzDnugCLihQ2wtDNwO3lcHIpYH1KJ2NfV5Uveq9EFBbsAQcNhp0L/s1600/P1000584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #b00000; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXx0GQ-gxpPs4LLMTWeK1h0pB19i8Y-eH9NvE-rDffZBSShyphenhyphenYe5mPH8EV_1_5vIFIwyJJzzaXZ2ckTwASkjDSKXWlWzDnugCLihQ2wtDNwO3lcHIpYH1KJ2NfV5Uveq9EFBbsAQcNhp0L/s1600/P1000584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXx0GQ-gxpPs4LLMTWeK1h0pB19i8Y-eH9NvE-rDffZBSShyphenhyphenYe5mPH8EV_1_5vIFIwyJJzzaXZ2ckTwASkjDSKXWlWzDnugCLihQ2wtDNwO3lcHIpYH1KJ2NfV5Uveq9EFBbsAQcNhp0L/s200/P1000584.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
l<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ike clouds in the sky, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the blancmange gradually dissolves </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as the sunshine returns.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Feeling better</i>?</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXx0GQ-gxpPs4LLMTWeK1h0pB19i8Y-eH9NvE-rDffZBSShyphenhyphenYe5mPH8EV_1_5vIFIwyJJzzaXZ2ckTwASkjDSKXWlWzDnugCLihQ2wtDNwO3lcHIpYH1KJ2NfV5Uveq9EFBbsAQcNhp0L/s1600/P1000584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Outside again Mr H firmly grips my hand as we cross the same road and walk towards a bench. I plonk myself down with a thump. Dipping my hand into our bag I pull out chunks of a crumbly Dorset scone which I greedily cram into my mouth. With each bite I feel the colour return to my cheeks. I look into Mr H's eyes and smile as seagulls sing their squawking song overhead.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ten minutes later I stand, my post seizure brain now fully rested and restored. I wave goodbye to the wobbly blancmange as we walk, hand in hand, past ice cream stalls, a pebbly beach and shops selling sun hats, buckets and spades...</span><br />
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<br />Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-89310728138769223772018-05-09T07:49:00.001-07:002018-05-09T07:50:07.879-07:00Scarlet Lipstick<span style="color: #009000; font-family: Arial;"></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaJ_oUoyj5ySKfyKcl1T1KFBoFfZ9s2-ROwSF1pR0Q_FQSN3kojwV2eBdwTYPZaVTPJ4rKuQXVBvVT3CfvDT9he9ezK3nMC9u0uYzyUolSPJX0K7vaW8zj78KRV4L6hZGot0wCrrRO05RG/s1600/Feeders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaJ_oUoyj5ySKfyKcl1T1KFBoFfZ9s2-ROwSF1pR0Q_FQSN3kojwV2eBdwTYPZaVTPJ4rKuQXVBvVT3CfvDT9he9ezK3nMC9u0uYzyUolSPJX0K7vaW8zj78KRV4L6hZGot0wCrrRO05RG/s200/Feeders.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;">I stand at the window with a lump in my throat and watch a great
tit dip it's glorious black and white head into the feeder. Bird feeders which
no longer blend like a mist into the background of bushes. Instead they now
hang clear and proud in their green and silver suits. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;">A female blackbird bobs along
the stone path below - a path that until Wednesday looked like a sea of sand to
my cataract misted eyes - and I gaze in wonder as it pecks up a stray seed with
its yellow beak...</span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;">As I turn my head I spot a
red breasted robin, its chest is as bright as scarlet lipstick. She lands on a
branch of our candy floss pink, cherry blossom tree. I stare as she dives at
the feeder to snatch a seed to feed her fluffy baby waiting below. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcIN5LLn71t1Bjs-YFJUaTO5fl4QxSOHduN72k9wJ87E52MTrTR32l-ngL1r1XrezjF7o-QQJ5ouQkLLaFmRtF-oAEB5rlwyvuVwmvUDbPJcLyVMzy86YHRQLDbd0NlzBnNOG2iAIoM4QW/s1600/thumbnail_IMG_0292%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="481" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcIN5LLn71t1Bjs-YFJUaTO5fl4QxSOHduN72k9wJ87E52MTrTR32l-ngL1r1XrezjF7o-QQJ5ouQkLLaFmRtF-oAEB5rlwyvuVwmvUDbPJcLyVMzy86YHRQLDbd0NlzBnNOG2iAIoM4QW/s200/thumbnail_IMG_0292%255B1%255D.jpg" width="150" /><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;">My feasting eyes stray to our display of tulips which gently sway in the
breeze. Mr H planted bag after bag of bulbs last autumn for us to enjoy. The
startling pink stand behind the purest red and white I have ever seen. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipW_l8MX4zwvyNyjsTPec3pObhd_KABqaIc4KGi3z1mUIx93QMzJ1yAMcHTcvvJP6bXSJfCtoK8yZAzWc2N8jGOtGkBzj9VL_d7lm1-sCh-yw3Jn6AqX0eI0IxPnkVcYN_fl5RuOt6wEf-/s1600/Yellow.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipW_l8MX4zwvyNyjsTPec3pObhd_KABqaIc4KGi3z1mUIx93QMzJ1yAMcHTcvvJP6bXSJfCtoK8yZAzWc2N8jGOtGkBzj9VL_d7lm1-sCh-yw3Jn6AqX0eI0IxPnkVcYN_fl5RuOt6wEf-/s200/Yellow.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Tall cups of colourful petals look up towards the grey sky which, to my new eye, is as bright as
the Caribbean sun.</span></div>
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<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
</span><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Now each morning when I wake my
face splits into a huge smile as I watch the white brightness of daylight enter
the room. The daylight that has been filtered by my cataracts for so long.</span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;">But the temptation to
carry on flirty winking is hard to beat. I have to cover each eye every day to
check that my new cataract free eyesight is at least as good as the day before.
This cover, check, mantra means that I am reminded of the grey world within
which my left eye still lives.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;">
When I read, the words are clearer, and at long last I can read on a deckchair
in the garden; the words are no longer clouded from view as soon as my eyes see
daylight. </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;">But reading glasses will
be by my side for the rest of my life. My
miraculous artificial acrylic lens only gives me distance vision. The lens
can't adjust like my own lens used to before I turned 45 when reading glasses became permanently perched on my head.</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: blue; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4tkJ9Ix888-wZjW43rSpOtoWxZREiWpKVEY8UGuz_M6mX0nmwZvZ3jvSkrJctWatLUrkdbK0ZwkKMCvlz0FuI1WOx1LhBAPb6VAZxCu1nC3_yIFG4AMqlEWdsYV7C_pf500A1Xc8JGQZj/s1600/Feeders.JPG"><span style="color: blue; margin: 0px;">
</span></a>After a week of rest, my energy bank is topped up and with
sunglasses on I test my eyes on a pavement walk. I stride with more confidence
as cracks and dips no longer hide from my trippy up view. </span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;">Four times a day I drip
drops into my eye which I protect with a patch at night. My calls to Mr H for
help are more frequent as I drop things I cannot pick up or have to stop myself
from reaching into low drawers. Bending to the ground is forbidden for a while.
With military precision I follow the regime for fear that this gift may be lost
if I do anything else.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; orphans: 2; text-align: center; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;">And for now, I tingle with
the joy of my new bright world. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; orphans: 2; text-align: center; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0rGIxuvd1oxRJ4fU5oHO_UwkEde4dV-Vwlm5rAlNfdCkWpntcsDee1OUJHZ0P1WsSD7CD-uXSkZaaWbfCF_Ckesz1cFa4P_i4yKbJYUd1XofU-N2PaUXOSRhB9V3wwpuCLurA-aV7iCv/s1600/Parrott.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0rGIxuvd1oxRJ4fU5oHO_UwkEde4dV-Vwlm5rAlNfdCkWpntcsDee1OUJHZ0P1WsSD7CD-uXSkZaaWbfCF_Ckesz1cFa4P_i4yKbJYUd1XofU-N2PaUXOSRhB9V3wwpuCLurA-aV7iCv/s320/Parrott.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-80072955202236649102018-04-26T02:43:00.002-07:002018-05-09T06:10:29.090-07:00Patch<div style="color: #454545; line-height: normal;">
<h2>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I can't see it</i> I say as Mr H repeats: <span style="font-style: italic;">it's on the left near the bottom</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: italic;">No I still can't see anything</span> I moan - <span style="font-style: italic;">all I can see is black.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Let me look again it's probably moved... no it's still there he </span>says with furrowed brows as he adjusts our birdwatching scope at a Dorset bird reserve in the summer of 2016.<span style="font-style: italic;">..you can even see the snipe's stripes . try using your other eye...</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Back home I booked an opticians appointment and after testing then retesting my eyes and the promise of a warning letter to my GP, I left the shop with a pounding heart. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The following couple of weeks I squinted in and out of hospital doors to attend appointment after appointment and was soon lying flat in the noisy hoop of an MRI. With my brain tumour history; blurred vision could not be assumed to be just that; blurred and cloudy vision.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />But at the eye hospital, my</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> pupils were dilated with dripping drops and peering inside them the eye hospital consultant said; <span style="font-style: italic;">you've got rapidly progressing posterior capsular cataracts</span>. <span style="font-style: italic;">This type of cataract is usually caused by steroids...I had steroids during my brain tumour and breast cancer treatments</span> I say with a shoulder shrug and wry smile - <span style="font-style: italic;">no one warned me </span>I mutter...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I stumble through the weeks and months with my unfocused camera lens vision. People give me puzzled looks as I develop a habit of flirty winking! It's hard to resist a constant check to see which eye is worse, which one is more out of focus... it's like looking through a peasouper fog! </span></span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I grumble to Mr H that I can't see the pavement cracks and potholes swim in and out of focus, adding layers of risk to my wobbly walking. I grumble that I can't read books anymore as the words hide behind cloud covered pages. I grumble when, in the dark, I crash into our gates as I walk down the drive and at the dazzling super moon of light around every headlight...</span></div>
<h2>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This year large print letters plopped onto my mat and after two further trips through hospital doors, my name is, at last, added to the cataract surgery waiting list. T</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">wo weeks and a phone call later, I have a date for the following Wednesday, and it's not with Mr H, wink wink! </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: italic;">I have to tape an eye patch over my eye at night for two weeks after the surgery </span>I read out loud to Mr H. <span style="font-style: italic;">Will you still love me as I get more and more like long John silver?</span> He laughs; <span style="font-style: italic;">of course it's the person not the patch that I love!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EuwhOCzWc3ruh17lgh_nbIUBAtWs0030wmdF2oLox2MF82qXmKQ8u7qyYYuBtpc7ymly7a2qHP1yayX8Ch6mHUpOOtdOYejxIt_eWtfeYenZwU9LnWg1_hd6oz6lw_IKxO5NxTMb87Cy/s1600/Eye+Eye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1450" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EuwhOCzWc3ruh17lgh_nbIUBAtWs0030wmdF2oLox2MF82qXmKQ8u7qyYYuBtpc7ymly7a2qHP1yayX8Ch6mHUpOOtdOYejxIt_eWtfeYenZwU9LnWg1_hd6oz6lw_IKxO5NxTMb87Cy/s320/Eye+Eye.jpg" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Back home last night in time for fish and chips</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: small;">Y<i>ou don't realise how important your vision is </i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>until it starts to fail</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>So relish the colours of summer flowers</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>delight in the blueness of the sky</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>take pleasure in swishing grass swaying</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>and be thankful for the gift of sight</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></span></span></h2>
<h2>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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</h2>
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Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1032666826755109141.post-77778548303492299022018-03-16T11:02:00.001-07:002018-03-16T11:02:44.953-07:00Stuff<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jenny slides into the seat of her wheels. I clutch the handles of mine</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...the automatic doors spring open and like a snake slithering warily across the floor we exit into the unknown...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="color: #454545;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ping! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="color: #454545;">
T<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he lift doors open and the cool air wafts around our smiling faces. <i>Take a sharp left</i> I call out to Jenny who by this stage has found the forward lever and liking its feel, zooms off ahead! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wait for meeeeeee echoes in the vastness of the mall.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>She's a learner</i> I say to a lady who generously steps out of the way to protect her toes from not one but two sets of wheels. <i>Look at these trousers </i>I squeal as Jenny stops with me right in the middle of the aisle. We c</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">reate a wide roadblock and titter as other shoppers are forced to walk back the other way to get to the rails...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With our wheels piled high with three pairs of trousers, a skirt and top we skid towards the sign saying Pay Here. Jenny safely attempts a 12 point turn to swing around a tight corner to the till but I get stuck behind her, my wheels are too wide. I decide on a two wheel approach and force my way through sidewards... we leave bewildered shoppers scattered behind us as we pay. The grinning saleswoman says <i>it's far too tight there isn't it, it's always the same shops rarely think about us wobbly ones getting in and out</i> I reply.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back out on the track, our transport stacked with bags, we move from shop to shop. We have booked our taxi home as we know we only have a maximum of two hours fuel on board! We buy a take away lunch to eat at home and trundle slowly back towards the exit. <i>Head for the lift at the end</i> I call to Jenny who yet again is whizzing ahead of me. I push my wheels faster trying to keep up. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8jXQGCaOrW89ihq4ijcefWJWJ01bSFy4_fvNs3-lZCuxND4Z8ZzLBNoGl5_GHjtWIpYABVbSPhazhKFjLgrZoe_VjIDWSt71ytp9Ms6Kvdh8vzde5MRlOlHTmK7u1xBaIV8sTitW8pEB/s1600/Jenny+alone.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8jXQGCaOrW89ihq4ijcefWJWJ01bSFy4_fvNs3-lZCuxND4Z8ZzLBNoGl5_GHjtWIpYABVbSPhazhKFjLgrZoe_VjIDWSt71ytp9Ms6Kvdh8vzde5MRlOlHTmK7u1xBaIV8sTitW8pEB/s320/Jenny+alone.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh no we cry at the sight of a big yellow OUT OF ORDER sign swinging in front of the lift door. <i>What now</i> Jenny mutters.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #454545;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Straight ahead, the only way is forward, through John Lewis we can use their lifts.</i>..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sound of metal on metal makes everyone crammed into the lift jump as Jenny squeezes her forward lever thinking it's the brake...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>
..<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but th</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ere is no brake you just have to stop squeezing... an easy mistake I remind her as we exit laughing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our taxi is waiting with his doors and boot open ready for us to fill with our stuff - my word for the week. <i>I love saying stuff</i> I keep telling Jenny as we slide wearily into the seats with grins smeared across our faces...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHqM1-h00YW0M3U00Pj8MSnVPeIaQnsLmqD-hX3tvan7K5AyrANZpsjwwQWQlVoN6cBKX2TZfH5zHeC96zywpTO2GpZjGwnWONDBqXF716IBesua9MVmtMwqKFajQTRgY9qWDxfJc7-oAP/s1600/Dawn+and+Jenny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHqM1-h00YW0M3U00Pj8MSnVPeIaQnsLmqD-hX3tvan7K5AyrANZpsjwwQWQlVoN6cBKX2TZfH5zHeC96zywpTO2GpZjGwnWONDBqXF716IBesua9MVmtMwqKFajQTRgY9qWDxfJc7-oAP/s320/Dawn+and+Jenny.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Dawn Hamillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15730134541996153917noreply@blogger.com0