“I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers: / Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. / I sing of maypoles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, / Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes.” Robert Herrick.
It`s been over a month since I last wrote my blog, and for that I apologize. It`s not that my life has been overflowing with excitement but in my own little way have been busy.
I love my Dad dearly, and am most defiantly my Fathers Daughter, not just in looks but also personality and outlook. Like him I have always been a free spirit and non-judgmental of others. He wasn`t around in my childhood, but I am told by my Mother that up until I was three I was a real Daddy’s girl and then they divorced and Dad went away. I was in my teens by the time he re-appeared in my life. By this time I had wondered about my origins as I didn`t look or think like my maternal family, though I had always remained in touch with my paternal Family in Ireland. Dad lives a long way from me, he`s never been a consistent presence in my life, but when he first came back into it I decided to base him on how he was to me from that day forward. Thankfully he has made up for the lost years, maybe by not with his physical presence, but by effort in staying in touch and I love him.
From the 19th of June we have had sunshine, even mini heatwaves! I love the sunshine but not the muggy humidity we often get, and despite my fear of lightening, storms are often a welcome relief. I have enjoyed time with the children in my family, a lot of water being involved and I love the simple enjoyment of childhood.
I got up at 6am for the Summer solstice, despite fine rain and grey skies. I had meditated the night before and was feeling very positive and relaxed. I found this lovely blessing today:
As the sun spirals its longest dance,
As nature shows bounty and fertility
Let all things live with loving intent
And to fulfill their truest destiny
Wiccan blessing for Summer.
Sadly Nelson Mandela was taken ill in the 24th and still very unwell recently celebrate his 95th birthday in Hospital with the world celebrating and respecting this great man that once said: “I was not a messiah, but an ordinary man who had become a leader because of extraordinary circumstances.”
It was on the 18th also that my oven decided to turn into a flame thrower and light up like a furnace, and leaving me without a oven until the 12th of July. The reason for the wait is that it was part of the low level disabled kitchen by the Housing society. In this time I got quite inventive with hob, grill and microwave cooking, though I`m always hesitant with the microwave as I don`t want me or my son to glow!
I went to the seaside on the 25th, it was nice to get out and mingle with people I knew and others I didn`t but I hadn`t felt well before going. I held it together for most of my time there but towards the end started to feel very strange. A lady that had given me a lift got quite concerned when all the colour drained from my face. I wasn`t well for a few days afterwards, a mix between a nasty bug and being a middle aged menstral female. 😦
My Son is still job-hunting and we are starting to irritate each other by being together too much. I love my own space and `me` time, but rarely get a day where he`s out (Lack of money) or where his friends arn`t in and out all hours. Though I get on with them all well, and they are always polite and courteous, they are still here. My Son has got a domestic bug almost bordering on OCD, where he`ll completely take over, throw what he considers to be rubbish out whilst telling me what he thinks of my domestic standards, we end up rowing and neither of us will back down as we are too alike! He is bored, frustrated and feels life is missing him out and I feel undermined, powerless and over sensitive by his outbursts and yet neither of us really mean it and just need a break in life.
On the 29th was the 80th birthday of the founder of the Brittle bones society, Mrs Margaret grant. I have had the wonderful privilege to meet this Lady many years ago and I just had to send her a card on her big day.
I myself was born with Osteogenesis Imperfecta in the 60s, an almost unknown disability at the time and often very misunderstood. Parents often had their children taken into care after being accused of child abuse, when in fact they had just suffered fractures. I was one of the lucky ones to be diagnosed from birth, being born with a fractured leg and ribs. However my mother wasn`t so lucky and often experienced verbal abuse in the street and being spat at. Without the Brittle bone society starting in 1969 people may have remained unaware for longer and parents like mine would not have had the support they so desperately needed.