"I dance about the garden with the sweep. Shouting at Johnny Boy in my head (We all need you NOW!) and saying hello to honeybees because only the most bitter and twisted of old crones could not admire their work ethic..."
"So here I am, wafting at a fly with my yellow fly wafter and looking for all the world as if I have gone mad as I bash at the air and screech if anything gets too close to my ear. One longs to be normal, but it seems normal is for other people.."
"Fresh orange juice, which is of course the stuff of sin these days but something I still adore. A clutch full of vitamins so I can restore myself back to working order because a person must not dwell on what cannot be fixed but must instead do everything in her power to live well regardless..."
"I am consumed by it all. Still dwelling on how truth relates to authenticity and more, the relationship between authenticity and shame. Is authenticity dependant on truth? And more again, are we ever being truthful if that truth is coloured by shame?"
"Right now I am wearing fluffy slippers and a long-sleeved t-shirt with a hole in it that I will not bin for love nor money. There is a late lunch at my side: a plate of feta and beetroot crackers and a cup of rosehip tea. I am tired and grateful for our happy home..."
"An afternoon shower. Flannels sprinkled with eucalyptus to banish a stuffy nose and towels warmed on the radiator. Clean pyjamas because I think I have forgotten the point of clothes and socks adorned with Christmas..."