So, I’ve been ill for some time. From the beginning of December I felt off. Thought maybe I’d eaten too many Xmas cherries. Just wanted to get through the last two weeks of work before leave so slogged on, as we do.

In a swelling ocean of blogs of health concerns and health history, I’m going under. At this point in this year, I cannot think of one more thing to do with my health.

Wally was my fluffiest floozy. Pepe is actually fluffier, but Wally made no secret of his demands to be petted by all and sundry. If you didn’t notice him noticing you, he’d sit on your foot, if that didn’t work, he’d roll over to display his belly for appreciation.

Learning the symbolism of my own dreaming has assisted me in separating fact from fiction. What gets to me though is having to learn how I’m feeling through my dreams

The children and I moved here 11 years ago. In that time I have parented 5 children, ranging in age from 6 weeks to 28 years, done some yelling, crying, laughing, silliness, been afraid and fearless, became less physically able, and learnt to live on my own and love it.

At the age of fifty I realised that the long desired tattoo had not been etched upon my skin because I hadn’t drawn it yet.

I have been invited to enter one of my Jumbly Man tales for an anthology. I am so happy that someone likes him. His stories only appear on this blog and no-one has ever mentioned it before, so I stopped putting them up. There are so many of them.

This is a world problem. I am not complaining, I am not even shaking my head at myself. I am wondering how we manage and the strength of the political and corporate will to keep the population perpetually broke, almost.

Be still and breathe slow.Watch for the morning glowAs tide turns through stars above,Rest awhile with me in love.

Our foundation stories keep coming up throughout our lives in our various interactions and experiences, as they are our blueprints and how we recognise our relationships. Changing the blueprints is a lifetime of work.