Chat time and apology

I’m writing to apologise once again for not being able to keep up in the blog world. I think I can only manage properly at the weekends now, as every night I’m too exhausted.

I have taken on cleaning jobs (houses) within 2 weeks we have secured 8 permanent ‘cleans’. Some days 3, others two, but they are every day and I never thought I would become so tired.

I have to try and fit in my assessments for the marriage celebrant course and though I went like a bull at a gate in the beginning, now I dread the thought of study.

Today I conducted my 14 Service. It was a tough one as 4 of the great grand children got up to speak. They were all under 10. The littlest one tugged at my jacket and said ..can you read this for me, as his two elder brothers stood crying, waiting their turn to read. I then had to read one of my poems and had to excuse myself as my emotions took hold.

My daughter is for the moment going ok again, which eases the load on me and family and I hope she can remain so.

So my dear friends and readers, if I miss your posts or don’t read as many as I once did, these are the reasons why. I shall try my upmost to catch up on the weekends or nights when I’m not longing for my bed at 7.30 😦

My life has changed dramatically, but I had to take on the cleaning work as the Services aren’t enough to sustain my income… sad but true…and hard work never kills anyone now does it..

Thank you for your understanding, if I only hit the like button, believe that I have indeed read, for I think it terrible not too. It’s just that I haven’t the thinking capacity to leave an intelligent and thoughtful response.


Chat time – the good the bad and the ugly

Perhaps if it were a full moon last night, I would understand my mood yesterday. Alas it wasn’t, but mood swings strike at even given moment with me. I wonder if others are the same?

I wasn’t prolific in my writing, I thought I would save you all from my moaning and groaning, when there are others far worse off than I.

Last Saturday I took my penguins to a funeral – Catholic ~ one and a half hours of workout, sit,kneel,stand. I am not religious but I stood when was required as I do not mock or disregard other peoples faith.

Pop and mum sat as it was too much for them to stand each time and pop was having a particularly bad day walking and on his legs.

There was one amusing incident, when the priest rang the bells, mum tuttered loudly, I asked what was wrong, she answered someone has their mobile phone on….ok bless.

As I struggled holding mums hand and onto pops walker, so we could walk up the slight incline to see the wife of the deceased (a friend of pops for 40 years) dad started to cry and said ” I’ll be seeing my mate soon” … Yes that started me, so with held back tears I walked them slowly to the car.

During the service which was quite beautiful, the priest read a piece that George (dec) had written for his own eulogy.

He was 88 and had trouble walking, like Pop. He passed in his sleep, may he RIP.

This got me thinking and I asked Pop if he would consider writing something for his Eulogy, that I could read (if I’m able) he agreed and now has written over 1000 words about his life. He acknowledges that it needs to be ‘culled’ edited, but he wants to write it and I am so very proud of him. Who better to write about their life than the person I ask.

I conducted my 1st burial last Wednesday in 40c heat, it wasn’t pleasant, but the family were lovely and invited me back for refreshments and got a chair for me and drinks and sandwiches.

6 children in the family, 19 grandchildren and 29 great grandchildren, who let balloons off at the burial site. Despite the horrific conditions, it was beautiful to witness.

I received a call after I wrote my 2 pieces yesterday and I have another burial next Wednesday, this will be my 8th. A disabled man who passed at the age of 48. To get to know the family’s, their story, their lives, is what makes this calling so worthwhile to me.

So in finishing my chat today, thank you for bearing with me yesterday, for putting up with this Aussie who can be very melancholy one minute and high as a kite the next.

I will get there, I know I will, especially with the support and love of those who continue to read me and I thank each and everyone of you for your kindness, encouragement and unwavering support.

It truly means a lot to me, you are not just readers in different parts of the world, you are my neighbours, my friends, my confidants and you get me through the good the bad and the ugly.

Know that if you need me, I am here for you too, in whatever capacity I can be.

Thank you my virtual friends and those I have met in person ~ I think the world of you and love you.


This will be the shortest post you have ever read from me

Phone call yesterday afternoon
Saw family last night
Started writing the Service at 7pm – finished at 2.30am
Woke at 8 😦
Started writing, phoning, emailing, editing – 8 hours
Service tomorrow at 1pm
Possibly my biggest – expecting 200 people


Mums will resume to ‘normal’ after Friday – so apologies if I don’t keep up!

Cork in the Ocean (Prose)


A cork is tossed amid tumultuous seas

bouncing bobbing ~ return to me

Your hands through waves, reach forward

only to retract, to lie awash within the crests

of silent white ~ the colour of perfection

and completion, bring home to me yourself

Fight the horridness of storms that may

seal your fate, rise up to fight the vehement

waves that brew, for my hand reaches out

to you, to save the sanity within

I shall protect and guide against

the currents great and small ~ if you

will let me be your rock

within my arms you shall be safe.


©jmtacken 25/11/2013


“Well well well…what do we have here”

Three footsteps and he stood silent, his leather boots no longer kicking up the dust.
He looked behind him and to his left. An over active imagination, tiredness, he shrugged, shook his head and continued walking past the out buildings and the well.

Then he heard it for the second time, perhaps a cat had fallen in and was crying out for help. Didn’t sound very much like a cat’s cry, he really didn’t have time this afternoon to save a cat, then again could he live with his conscience if he didn’t.

Kneeling down, he noticed how new the well wheel was, the cogs stood out sharp and crisp. He crouched momentarily admiring the craftsmanship.

He did not notice the long sinewy fingers that hooked onto the edge of the well pit or the deep crimson blood that dripped silently on to the clean brick steps.

He didn’t realise the strength that grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him in towards the darkness of the abyss or feel the blood spit from his mouth as its talons impaled his heart on his descent downwards.

Nor did he hear it purr with delight..


For Alastairs – Photo Fiction Prompt – Everyone is welcome 🙂    150 words or less. Thanks Alastair!