Monday, April 22

Writing rather than cooking

With a little over an hour to get dinner sorted, read school readers, tidy up, get the washing in, fold it and put it away, it seems only natural to throw it all in the too hard basket and blog instead.

With so many thoughts bustling around my head trying to make sense of themselves, I am sure I will be much more productive if I write first.

Well that is what I tell myself in a bid to justify my selfish desire to forget about my responsibilities and just write instead. 

 Can't wait to share the story that goes with it.

Normally Monday sees me confessing with the lovely Kirsty over at My Home Truths. Only this week she is on holidays (lucky thing) Last week when I read of her impending break I did plan on a confession anyway as I am always keen to get things off my chest,  however, we all know how my plans go, so naturally it didn't happen.

deep sigh

Where was I? Oh that's right.

Meeting Samuel Johnson was certainly a highlight. We might not have spoken as much as we could have but truth be told if I had of spoken to him any more than what I did, I would have ended up as a blubbering mess. And let's face it, nobody, least of all someone as amazing as old SJ, needs a blubbering mess on their hands.

For those who don't know the intimate workings of my inner thoughts, I am an incredibly emotional person. I cry a lot and easily. For the most part I can hold it to a simple eye well. A few deep breaths and I can generally get it all under control but not all the time.

There are some topics that there is just no avoiding a tear or two when I think of them. Let alone actually talking to someone who may be going through said grievance.
Princess Ladybird
*Which reminds me.
Princess Ladbird Week
starts on Wednesday.

Losing a sister is one of them. Losing a child is another*. Throw cancer into the mix and it is all over. I am a goner for sure.

Tears will be shed. And quite possibly a lot of them. Not sob your heart out tears. Just roll silently down your cheek tears. Not that it really makes much difference. Neither are easy to ignore and carry on a conversation with.

It actually makes feel uncomfortable. I start to wonder what right I have to get all teary over their heartbreaking sadness. Worsened when strength and resilience are shown.

Now that's all out the way, make sure you pop back in tomorrow to find out what Sam had to say after his swim with Chopper.

For now though it is best I get back to that whole being responsible thing and get dinner sorted.

double deep sigh.

After all the fun and antics of feeding multiple numbers twelve year old girls the last thing I feel like doing tonight is feeding the troops that make up my family. Ok, ok I know, most nights the last thing I feel like doing is cooking dinner, it's just I couldn't let it slip when I had such a good excuse tonight!

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