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.


Spilt Milk – Life going slowly

Dust settles on antique oak, sleeping
not disturbed
how I wish that I could steal time
from my hurried self

to sit amidst curtains of cotton
cupboards of plates
dust thats found its bed
no destination – not be roused

doors slam shut – engines start
the same day nine to five
angry fists that wave
but do not smile

the every day – I sleepwalk
wishing for the ‘dust time’
to sit and gather thoughts
when sunlight filters through smudged panes

and hits the back of chairs
melts butter on the dish
my words would spill like milk across
the sun annointed tablecloth