Remember, remember...

copyright VladyslavDanilin/Dreamstime.com

   This has been a funny old week. It started on an unexpectedly sad note as I was watching a programme about the 'Unknown Soldier' who is buried in Westminster Abbey. It had not really occurred to me that there was a real soldier in there and I wondered who he was. I had supposed it was a symbolic kind of thing, not involving a real person.

As a war baby, I feel a connection with the last war, probably because my father never came home from it.
I always get a little emotional when I see all those poppy petals falling in the Albert Hall during the service of remembrance, and like to think that one of those petals was for him. Although I know all about him, I never met him, something I have regretted all my life; for growing up without a father is one of the saddest things. I have missed him so much, how is that even possible if I never met him?
I have been thinking of trying to compile my family tree again to discover more about that side of my family, but the last time I tried it seemed so complicated, I gave up.
Do you suppose somebody somewhere knows who the unknown soldier is? Maybe it would be nice to know, so that we could honour him properly. It could even be my dad, who knows?


This weeks thought...



 I have just read Bru's latest post (February Grace/Pitch Slapped) and it should be illegal how much that girl suffers. I personally can fully empathise with her, for some of her problems are mine too. Medication side effects are something else, and some days I wonder if taking all these pills is doing more harm than good. Take statins for example. I'm supposed to take them to prevent another heart attack, but they have seriously affected my kidneys and given me such violent muscle spasms that I no longer take them. I also have neuropathy and suffer excruciating pain in my feet making walking almost impossible. The drugs that were supposed to help, actually did for a while but soon the effect faded, needing stronger doses. Eventually I became almost comatose or so it seemed and I decided enough was definitely enough. The medication for my high blood pressure is depleting my calcium levels and given me vertigo, but I am forced to take them as I am not ready to shuffle off any where just yet. Far too much living still to do, and there is such a thing as quality of life, we have to grab it when we find it, don't we?

On the literary front, I have been writing furiously (and hopefully well). I have been encouraged to join Pinterest (see button) and I don't know much about it yet, or what good it will do, but intrepid as ever, I had a go and it was easier than I thought.

I just hope we start to make more progress soon, as I don't think I will be capable (sensible capable that is) much longer, for I am having all kinds of trouble with my vocabulary. I have always been proud of my command of the English language, but just lately it has been letting me down and I find that the right words are eluding me. I know they are in there somewhere, they are just refusing to come out.
Even a simple crossword puzzle is becoming a bit of a battle. I don't want to get too old to do all the things I love, that would be absolute torture.  Maybe I should be taking fish oil or something?

On a lighter note, Carol Hedges, one of my favourite writers and blogger, is in the running for Blogger of the Year and if there is a God anywhere she deserves to get it. She is like a beacon for all of us lesser mortals, so please vote for her at  skelat.com/voting.html until 15th December.

By the way, does anyone know anything about WattPad?

Best wishes, see you next week...