Its more of a diary than a blog, I guess. A new year is upon us and I have taken up Tai Chi. I'm only managing every other day on average. But I need to do it cos I promised myself that I would.I was going to totally give up alcohol but I am failing - not too badly. :))
It took me years to stop smoking so I will not beat myself up; after all 4-5 glasses of cider is bugger-all considering what I used to put away on the wine and spirits. Mind you, I was an alcoholic having a nervous breakdown after a nasty episode in my life. Date rape - stupid expression - sounds so innocuous for such a total betrayal of trust...
I've spent a lot of time under a blanket over the last fifteen years - a blanket of pain and dark clouds, of hatred and rage and loss. I'm up to just using a fleece now but its been, and still is, a constant battle against hopelessness.
Sitting here earlier on my folded up quilt with a fleece over my legs I was musing on what makes a blanket so nice and a short poem popped into my head - its a bit soppy, but also true.
THE LURE OF THE BLANKET
by C. A. Jones
The warm brown fleece
Seperates me from the cold.
My legs and toes are softly
Kept warm, like in days of old
When I was just a baby,
Held close in loving arms
And wrapped in fleecy blankets -
Contented, loved and warm.
So half the Sun blew up did it? Haven't heard much about that. Apparently we are all going ti die. Better smoke this and drink that while I have time.