Insomnia – an old acquaintance. Lights on in some neighbouring houses tell me I’m not the only one who isn’t tucked up. I sit in the night-quiet living-room, sipping camomile tea, reading, hearing the ticking clock, waiting for my eyes to fall heavy. Hoping to get a couple of hours before dawn.
24 My earrings – I have many – today I’m wearing small blue enamel studs. All are small expressions of me – bright, subdued, sparkly, subtle, understated, eccentric…
25 It’s the Bard’s birthday – Robert Burns, Scotland’s poet . He’d have been ace at writing these small stones. And I’m taken back each year, as I am today – to primary school days – reciting ‘To a Mouse’. What foresight and wisdom in one small poem.
Joy and sorrow – love and loss – recent moments of happiness – to a present time of sadness – all in the same Christmas picture. A happy great-grandpa sits with his new great-grandchild. With hellos and goodbyes – the cycle of life turns. Farewell George, we’ll miss you. (In memory of my dear father-in-law passed away 23rd January 2012)
