What amazing weather, so lovely (unless you're already sunburnt, then its not so good) That of course is not me, because I am sensible it's always the men of the household. They all think it's too manly to put on suntan cream (or they just don't think) and end up with burnt heads, necks and noses, and
then moan about it, like its my fault!!!
Anyway whilst I'm on the subject of men....my eldest in the presence of his father, asked me this question "Mum, how many forks and spades did you have?" As you can see all in the past tense. I had already thrown all my teddies out of the pram last week when I walked into the greenhouse expecting to pick up a fork/spade and there was none. These tools are mine, I bought them and I keep them where I know how to find them, if they do get borrowed then they must be RETURNED after use. And while I'm on my soap box, this rule does not just apply to garden implements.
So, back to the question. Before i had even asked 'Why?" the pair of them burst into hysterical laughter, thinking it highly amusing that they had not only stolen my forks/spades they had managed to break them in the process. Apparently they weren't "up to the job", to which I proclaimed loudly that they were small sized implements just right for me and my needs, not for them to go shovelling entire gorse bushes onto trailers!
To top it all they had the dog down the meadow, which she loves, however she always comes back having eaten something she shouldn't, a chew on a dead rabbit ( It may have been alive just before it was dead, but I don't want to dwell on that), and the other day it was a vole, which judging by the way she was skulking around the kitchen with her tail between her legs didn't agree with her digestion.
You know when I walk into the hospital and march briskly along the corridors, I appear to all intents and purposes carefree. Visiting the hospital pre February 2012, I would look upon others who seemingly did not look so well, with a degree of pity, feeling fortunate that I was 'well" and not in need of any 'treatment'. Sometimes I visited friends who had had babies, and that was always a good experience , but still a certain amount of relief that I could get outside into the fresh air post visit.
Now I hate (maybe too strong a word) intensely dislike hospitals, don't get me wrong, the staff are WONDERFUL, and particularly in Oncology where I have spent a great deal of time , but despite my air of lightheartedness and my quick step, it masks an underlying dread that it's never really going to be 'good news'. I'm never going to hear, "You're cured!" "No more blood tests/chemo/transfusions...EVER".
Blood test today. Hb dropped down to 8.4, and I was told that I was 'two short' or it could have been 'too short'.... ( I don't often get told that) with my platelet count sitting at 98. My white cells and neutrophils are just about holding their own. A discussion followed about a transfusion, it was brief and went something like this "When do you want to come in?" "I dont"! We compromised, and I go back Friday for another blood test with a view (if Hb hasn't picked up) to have a transfusion next week, and chemo afterwards
Please don't think I am writing this as I am 'depressed', It's just fact, it's the way it is, and although I keep 'going on' about it, other folk are far worse off than me.
Today has been very good (other than the hospital visit) I've walked the dog, done a yoga class and played two hours of tennis with some very good friends. I have come home to a beautiful house, with a family and husband that loves me. You can't put a price on that, I am unbelievably 'lucky'.
There is a particular quote that I like , and as I have actually been and seen this Church in Norwich I thought I would fill you in with a bit of background, plus my mum was a Norfolk girl.
So, a little bit of history from Norfolk, actually all about St Julian Of Norwich
Very little is known about Julian's life. Even her name is unknown; the name "Julian" simply derives from the fact that her anchoress's cell was built onto the wall of the
Church of St Julian in Norwich. Her writings indicate that she was probably born around 1342 and died around 1416.
[2][3][4] She may have been from a privileged family that lived in
Norwich, or nearby. Norwich was at the time the second largest city in England.
Plague epidemics were rampant during the 14th century and, according to some scholars, Julian may have become an anchoress whilst still unmarried or, having lost her family in the Plague, as a widow.
[5] Becoming an anchoress may have served as a way to
quarantine her from the rest of the population. There is scholarly debate as to whether Julian was a nun in a nearby convent or even a laywoman.
[5]
When she was 30 and living at home, Julian suffered from a severe illness. Whilst apparently on her deathbed, Julian had a series of intense
visions of Jesus Christ, which ended by the time she recovered from her illness on 13 May 1373.
[6] Julian wrote about her visions immediately after they had happened (although the text may not have been finished for some years), in a version of the
Revelations of Divine Love now known as the
Short Text; this narrative of 25 chapters is about 11,000 words long.
[7] It is believed to be the earliest surviving book written in the English language by a woman.
[8]
“All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.”
― Julian of Norwich
Lastly a picture of two girls, both of whom are 'amazing' (unquote) so they tell me.....
