so i got home,and the wind yesterday has blown some of the leaves away….
taken the holly wreath down there and surprised to find I was crying.
( ah when you are under the weather things get to you……)
it will be nice to see you. the early days are hard especially this time of year.
your hat has turned into quite a project. i took it to mill to get darning wool,and it was pointed out that lots of the holes are indeed eyelets, and what a splendid hat it is.
also spoke of leaf bags and she said that if one have had the bags a while they will start to degrade…..
how much needs mending?
a story nonetheless, as are others. i prefer tintin
with snowy a dog. this year you have not told me,
confided. i have the little things that could mean
not about money, more about family. it may
be time you told them.
it is time to regrade
what does this mean, about a change of bed,
clothes. everyone does it, not a big chore.
when they do not have a home
a bed. think on it. think on a
broken body, broken mind.
nice message thank you.
yes I shall like to get to know your friends more, they are welcoming.
i like them. there is something special , the more I know her.
have a good time in oswestry, it is a pretty place.
hope your wrist improves.
an empty shell, i carried it carefully.
the bird had flown,
and while some are sad,
it is a new life and
we must move on.
who knows her name now,
times passes. why do you
how to say a name.
one syllable or two?
we were all young then, sliding
about in troubles, growing out.
how to say a name in pictures.
they wrote of you
in public interest, fact
who loved you
those days in wraysbury,
who loves you now?
what shall I call you now,
we have been discussing his mother recently.
at a request from another.
‘who is my mother’. the bear whispered.
i do not know.
you came as an adult, a wise one.
you never said.
‘then i will never know?’
no, probably not, yet
i love you.
whispered the bear, then went very quiet.
he said that we will die,
as all things will die,
go back to nature.
he will remember me.
the whole family,
returned in the evening
cooler, cleared the hay
from the graveyard.
it was hot, so
i layed a cold
( in respect for david alexander mcalden. my friend )
“carry your words on every day”
( initial words by wilfred. my friend. )
we sit quietly here, fretting
over nothing in particular.
some bemoan their lot,
others get on with it willingly.
stop and have a cup of tea.
while others walk in #ice and mud,
while others #drown,
while others #starve.
without a #cup of tea.