Words are how I express my emotions. Not out loud in front of people, can't do that. One on one it is hard for me because growing up we could not express anger or disgust at adults so I still have some trouble. I hid my emotions so well I don't always realize how angry I am. I expect a fight every time I say no to anything. I expect every choice I make to be second-guessed. I have a hard time choosing because every choice limits every other choice I might have and you might prefer me to have. See? I can drive you crazy. Too late for me, save yourself.
But when i write, I let it rip. I get angry even if too angry and i laugh long and hard if i find something funny. I am finally getting to see the irony in losing so much sleep over things that never happen when out of the blue two close friends have had cancer surgery and one FB friend just found out she has to deal with the C word as well. I was raised not to hate, (well not counting those color people), but if it is possible to hate a disease I hate cancer.
And so now you have to listen to what i do when i am so upset I can't sleep or write. It is an ancient practice from as long as there has been man walking around erect. I am cooking. I call it cooking because I am not trained as a chef. I cannot tell you how i like fighting to peel garlic cloves, or cube then dice red onion. Chopping the herbs after stripping them off the stems i feel kinda powerful actually. The oregano fought me, but the rosemary (don't laugh) looks like little Christmas trees to me. I halved and squeezed some lemon in and now my hands smell very refreshing. I am making something I don't think I ever made for JIm. It is a pork of loin and I am making pulled pork for dinner today and sandwiches as we are out all day tomorrow with the 10K run in Paisley.
My job is to sit there and tell young boys and girls the fun of a life of rugby. Not only is it wonderful sport for fitness, but even in my health I have made some good life-long friends. Many people come simply to watch, and talk about the days when they played. We have an elder statesman, Douglas, who knows the history of the club from its inception. I wish he would write it all done or record it somehow, because he has a true wealth of knowledge, even of some people we have lost. If you see him, walk right up and say hello, he is someone who knows his stuff.
I dislike cooking, and having said that, I was surprised how pleased I was when Jim said the other night,"you are getting good at this!" See if you don't care about your cooking it shows. Food always has an extra ingredient you can't teach. Good food takes love and care. I am paying attention now, and my waistline shows it. For the longest time when we lived in the maisonette i tried not to come downstairs at all, and for food i wanted a half a toast dry. Now i am well I have an appetite, and i think it has me.
My agita over my gluttony has a small reprieve in Mary's meals. I want to get involved in that big time. If you don't know of it, the basic premise is to keep kids in school by giving them a mug you fill with this porridgy maize type stuff--only if they attend school. Education is the way out for many children, and even in my condition I know I want to be part of that. How I don't know, but to feed a child for an entire school year is less than £11. I easily spend that on munchies for telly rugby games. So, i am gonna watch the FB site for Mary's meals and see what happens.
It is nice to feel human again and part of something that has nothing to do with disease, except the disease of poverty. That is therapy for me. If you have any ideas how i could raise the £11 please send me a message. Brenda
Blessings
But when i write, I let it rip. I get angry even if too angry and i laugh long and hard if i find something funny. I am finally getting to see the irony in losing so much sleep over things that never happen when out of the blue two close friends have had cancer surgery and one FB friend just found out she has to deal with the C word as well. I was raised not to hate, (well not counting those color people), but if it is possible to hate a disease I hate cancer.
And so now you have to listen to what i do when i am so upset I can't sleep or write. It is an ancient practice from as long as there has been man walking around erect. I am cooking. I call it cooking because I am not trained as a chef. I cannot tell you how i like fighting to peel garlic cloves, or cube then dice red onion. Chopping the herbs after stripping them off the stems i feel kinda powerful actually. The oregano fought me, but the rosemary (don't laugh) looks like little Christmas trees to me. I halved and squeezed some lemon in and now my hands smell very refreshing. I am making something I don't think I ever made for JIm. It is a pork of loin and I am making pulled pork for dinner today and sandwiches as we are out all day tomorrow with the 10K run in Paisley.
My job is to sit there and tell young boys and girls the fun of a life of rugby. Not only is it wonderful sport for fitness, but even in my health I have made some good life-long friends. Many people come simply to watch, and talk about the days when they played. We have an elder statesman, Douglas, who knows the history of the club from its inception. I wish he would write it all done or record it somehow, because he has a true wealth of knowledge, even of some people we have lost. If you see him, walk right up and say hello, he is someone who knows his stuff.
I dislike cooking, and having said that, I was surprised how pleased I was when Jim said the other night,"you are getting good at this!" See if you don't care about your cooking it shows. Food always has an extra ingredient you can't teach. Good food takes love and care. I am paying attention now, and my waistline shows it. For the longest time when we lived in the maisonette i tried not to come downstairs at all, and for food i wanted a half a toast dry. Now i am well I have an appetite, and i think it has me.
My agita over my gluttony has a small reprieve in Mary's meals. I want to get involved in that big time. If you don't know of it, the basic premise is to keep kids in school by giving them a mug you fill with this porridgy maize type stuff--only if they attend school. Education is the way out for many children, and even in my condition I know I want to be part of that. How I don't know, but to feed a child for an entire school year is less than £11. I easily spend that on munchies for telly rugby games. So, i am gonna watch the FB site for Mary's meals and see what happens.
It is nice to feel human again and part of something that has nothing to do with disease, except the disease of poverty. That is therapy for me. If you have any ideas how i could raise the £11 please send me a message. Brenda
Blessings
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