Boi he’s big
My big cat,
He’s also fat
Paws stretch
From here to
Eternity
Claws my ankles
While I sleep.
Pulls the bed sheets
Over him.
So my feet freeze
Cat
Sweet
Cheeky
Don’t sneeze!
Boi
TRIGGER.. .Spider Time
Spider alert
Big legs and glowing eyes!
I went to a writers group performance on Sunday and this wee beastie was sitting comfortably on the bench seat.
Spider, spider
Sitting quiet
On the bench
Below a light
Don’t squash me
It seems to say
I’ll catch flies
By light of day…..
A soul cake at 4am…
A soul, a soul, a soul cake,
Please good missus, a soul cake…..
Endlessly ringing through my head. We were singing this minor key song this evening at choir and it’s turned into an ear worm….
When I went to bed a few hours ago I was determined not to be kept awake by intrusive thoughts. I was going to think of the word ‘the’ over and over again to keep my mind on the straight and narrow path to slumber. It almost worked, but the ‘the’s’ started to form into the Soul cake tune, and soon it took over.
It didn’t help that I’d gone to bed on an almost empty stomach, not feeling well, I’d decided just to eat a couple of sandwiches, and I was being kept awake by the feeling of hunger. I’ve come downstairs for something and ended up eating a tub of curried noodles.
Now I’m sitting in my armchair wondering what to do. I can hear traffic outside and the patter of rain on the ground by my front door, almost like the soft sound as a cat licks itself before settling down to sleep.
Maybe I’ll stay downstairs and hope that I can doze, or go back to bed and try and sleep with the radio murmuring softly. Insomnia is not my friend.
Soon it will be dawn again, things to do. But with the change of the clocks I always feel jet-lagged, unsettled, trying to find my comfortable place.
Maybe writing here, using my thoughts of other things will clip the earworm and stop the repetitive tune. I do hope so. Goodnight.
Tired and achy
Everything aches
From head to foot
From face to hips
And shaking limbs
Are causing pain.
An ache that grows
And makes me frown.
I must relax
And need to rest
To give me health
Again, at last…
Shopping trolley
I just went shopping and they have changed the trolleys. They used to be shallow so that you didn’t reach down too far into them. The new ones are small, but deeper. If you want to get shopping out of it you have to reach down into it. Because I have Parkinsons I feel like I’m tipping forward and in danger of falling into the trolley.
If I use a basket I have to use a walking stick and it’s hard to put things into the basket without finding somewhere to put the stick down. Sometimes I hang it off shelves. Also the weight of the basket seems more everytime I shop.
I know this is a first world dilemma and I should be grateful to have supermarkets. I just feel frustrated that even when disabled people are catered for the company can change it’s mind and make things worse. I just want people to recognise the problems we can face.
Odd, this week’s writing prompt.
The Lykewake Dirge.
Chorus: This ae neet, this ae neet
Every neet and all
Fire and fleet and candleleet
And Christ receive thy soul….
We were learning odd old songs last night at choir, appropriate to the season.
Verse: When thou from heme away art part.
Every neet and all,
To Whinny moor thou comst at last.
And Christ receive thy soul.
The song talks about if you ever gave someone shoes and hose, you can sit down and put them on, but if you didn’t the ‘whins’ (winds?) shall pick your bare bones. It goes on along these thoughts. The figures in it, carrying a dead body, proceed from Whinny Moor, to Brig o’ Dread at last.
If you gave Meat and Drink to anyone the fires of Purgatory won’t touch you, but if you have naught, the fire will burn you to your bare bones.
Thus this old Yorkshire Dirge gives it’s message that if you treat people well and with kindness you shall be saved from the fires of Purgatory, but if you were mean spirited, that is your loss.
It’s interesting to find out about songs like this in our modern age. Spooky and frightening images of people striding out across a dark, windswept moor. High above towns and cities. Perhaps men wrapped in dark clothes and cowled or hooded cloaks….
Carrying a body to its last resting place? Maybe a bog grave where the body will be preserved in acid peat. Their skin turning to leather over the centuries. Held in a peaty stasis whilst their life’s works are weighed in the balance. Bones turning brown and black.
The cloaked figures striding off into the distance, like figures in the latter day ‘Traitors’ TV programme.
Next week we will be learning Carols, ready for Christmas……..
Catching up
Youdraw drawing. I’m trying to catch up with things but the youdraw interview put me in a spin. So many old memories. Old friends, thinking about what I was doing and what I was capable of twenty or so years ago. And the frustration of no longer having those abilities.
I want to think about how I can get some of it back. I’m going to see if I can get better medication for Parkinsons. Does life have to be this hard? Mentally and physically I’m feeling my age.
Reading spooky stories
My writing group put on a show this afternoon. All of us got together to read out spooky stories we had written. They were not specifically done for the show, but after writing for ten months we all had something to contribute.
We got organised and even had tee shirts made up with our logo on. Everyone read out one or two stories in a local pub. They were pleased to have us and asked if we would go back at Christmas!
I was very nervous. My heart was racing and I struggled to just turn the page. But thankfully my stories were very short so I got off the stage area quite quickly. I think blogging here has made it easier. Being in the group has really helped.
Youdraw
https://youtube.com/shorts/EmEBgH30shY?si=Q3TMLxNVdQfRB6Sj
I was drawing at a digital platform called youdraw several years ago. The object was to collect 500,000 drawings.
I’ve recently been contacted as they are going to publish 10 books with contributors art included. I thought I would share the link to my interview. Hope that’s OK…
My first cat…
She never usually sat on dad’s lap, but this time she did. Such a loving little tortoise shell cat. I didn’t know then that this sort of fur colouration is mainly female…. I may be wrong. We had another cat too but I dint remember him well, I left home a few years later, and I missed them so much.
Of course when I stayed in student accommodation we weren’t allowed pets, but a year later we took in an old straggly cat that someone was going to have put to sleep. And after that I’ve always had cats… 11 in total… My friends.
Mallaband-Brown 