I created this blog about a year ago when I lay in bed, sick. Then life took over, and I forgot about it. What a pity. I have had much to say and all my words disappeared, were never recorded.
I will begin again, and hopefully acquire a reader or two who will share my life.

Tobias, or Toby as he prefers to be called, entered my life about two years ago. It has been a relationship fraught with problems. I felt he did not respect me and he thought…well, I’m not sure what he thought, or thinks. Beloved said I was too sensitive, that I should not take his behaviour to heart. That he would learn to love me. “Learn? Are you saying I’m difficult…so difficult that he will have to learn to abide me?”
“There you go,” said the patient Beloved, “taking it personally.”
Every time I saw the boys enjoying each other’s company, jealousy pierced my soul. Yes! I was jealous. The two sat side by side, companions, watching sport. They took walks out in the garden. Chatted amicably. When I would walk in, Toby would raise his eyebrows, glare, and then ignore my presence. It hurt. Why was I excluded? I felt disregarded by both the males. I felt they were ganging up against me. Beloved insisted I was being quite silly. I’m sure he would have preferred to say ‘stupid’, but bit his tongue, fearing my wrathful disdain.
When Toby moved into our home, I had expectations. I imagined we’d become a family of sorts. He was having none of that. He just went on being selfish, only thinking about his needs, his wants. Always him…
Until now. The look on his face when Beloved announced his trip to the USA! I groaned. What? Are you going to leave me with him? We don’t get on!
‘You’ll just have to learn to get on,’ smiled Beloved. Again, that word, learn.
Hopson’s Choice.
Beloved is going to be so proud when he returns. Now, when Toby sees me, he wags his tail, does his happy here-comes-my-food dance, and even sleeps at the end of my bed.
Down boy!

The feeling of home

Vicks vapour rub
Nivea hand cream
Three Flowers lipstick
Woods Peppermint Cure
Friar’s Balsam
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
Eiderdown quilt
Warm oats porridge
Hand knitted cardigan
Woollen wrap scarf
Hot chicken soup
Mother

I’m ill…the dreaded lurgy caught up with me and threw my aching frame into bed. The doctor confirmed this unfortunate state of ill-health and added to the woe – antibiotics.

What does one do when thus confined? Propped up on pillows three, the blue mountain on the other side of bedroom window beckons. As I climb, in mind’s eye, its gentle slopes, the thickness in my head resides and the mist of yesterday lifts.

A child in large bed, hidden under blankets of wool…coughing and red with fever. A mother, dark haired with gentle touch, soothes the little mite. Coaxing – one more spoonful, one more bite. Promises of tomorrow’s better health, romping out of doors.

Would that she through these doors would walk and my sick room enter. Oh Sweetheart, there you are! How ill you look, but soon I’ll make you better.

In mind’s eye I reach the peak of mountain blue and from this height am able to better see, a clearer view. There in the distance, so long ago, a loving mother waving back at me.