About me

I have been writing poetry and stories since I was a child, and a love of reading was instilled in me from an early age. I am passionate about writing, and hope you enjoy the books I have written. Whilst most of you sleep soundly in your beds, like many Parkinson’s patients, insomnia dictates, so during those hours that sleep eludes me, the house is tranquil and quiet, an atmosphere perfect to immerse myself in writing. My life has been a series of strange events, which have without doubt contributed to my creativity. To publish anything is to bear one’s soul to the world. It is to stand naked and let everyone see who you really are. I have poured my heart and soul out on paper and I hope to share this journey, immersing you in a story, capturing your attention and firing the imagination. Through my writing and public speaking I hope to bring greater awareness to the general public about living with chronic disease.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Coming down to earth

We had a large amount of earth delivered for the garden and this mountainous heap, rich brown, soft and inviting, silently beckoned me like a giant sandcastle that had just been destroyed by delirious children! It has been three months since my last fall and as I stood there I could feel my balance wane; the familiar feeling I was about to fall came over me, but I could do nothing to prevent it. As if in slow motion, I looked at my husband who was just out of reach, and back I fell, thankfully onto the soft earthy heap. My inner child has a habit of appearing at the most inopportune times, as I was sorely tempted to make a "snow angel", well all right, an "earth angel", but as appealing as the thought was, I was unable to move, laying on my back in the soft brown earth. Firstly the concerned look on my husband's face and then our dog, who despite having great difficulty in reaching me, persevered to get to my side, as she always does whenever I fall. What brought me quickly to my senses, was the thought that maybe there was a poisonous centipede crawling around, like the one I had found last week (blog entry on the 24th March and the continuation of this saga on 2nd April) my husband swiftly hauled me up out of the dirt. Thankfully I was not hurt, just a little muddy and decided it was time for drink; a cup of tea. Maybe this is where the saying comes from, "Here's mud in your eye" which is used when making a toast drinking with someone, although I doubt it originated from drinking tea! I should imagine it's origins were a shot of something a bit stronger!

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