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illness

Day 75 – the virtue of the small

There’s been a rather lengthy conversation come after my Walking With Ghosts story, which mostly didn’t really have anything to do with me, so I’ve just watched it unfold. Towards the end somebody mentioned the book the Te of Piglet. I too read it ages ago, I too like the Tao of Pooh much better. But I also really liked the premise of the title: Te – the virtue, of Piglet – a wee and fragile timid little thing. The virtue of the small.

It’s something I think about a lot these days, for a variety of reasons. But the idea there’s something precious and wonderous about that part of us that is the weakest, the most frail…Read More »Day 75 – the virtue of the small

Day 72 – Florence Frickin’ Nightingale

This one’s for you mama….

My mom spent her working years as a nurse. A member of that noble-hearted profession of caregivers, nurturers, comforters of the ailing. My mother also has a rather warped sense of humour. To this day, if you ask her how my dad broke his toe (something that happened well over 30 years ago now), you’ll get such a fit of tear streaming breathless giggles you won’t ever really get the story,Read More »Day 72 – Florence Frickin’ Nightingale

Day 70 – frickin’ vulnerability

After all my rest and peace yesterday – it took ’til darkness fell before I had the capacity to stay awake for more than an hour, and still I slept for 12 hrs when I did go to bed – woke up this morning snarly. I’m just plain mad, and angry – okay angry is pretty much the same thing as mad, but it’s got more syllables so feels kinda different, you wanna argue with me on that, do ya? do ya? huh?Read More »Day 70 – frickin’ vulnerability