M is for Missed Chances
I received this from my friend who is bravely and most humorously fighting cancer.
You have to be grateful for all life’s missed chances
the chance to sleep outside when it’s bitterly cold
the chance to make newspaper your only blanket
the chance to queue two hours for one cup of hot soup
the chance never to wallow in a deep, hot bath
the chance to be afraid of violence every day you exist
the chance to weep over a lost child’s grave
All those missed chances
How lucky am I?
M is for Motivated
I’m probably showing my age here (am I bothered?) but I was thinking about that rather amusing character ‘Mr Motivator’. Remember him? He had a jolly smiley face and a jolly positive attitude and a jolly colourful Lycra outfit complete with a jolly revealing bulge. Anyway, I used to find him a tad nauseating and a bit too jolly for the morning BUT where is he now when I really needed him?
I am writing this because I am meant to be at a Literary Festival this morning – and I’m not. Why? I’m not going to swear on this blog, but when I opened the bedroom curtains this morning, I noticed that the skies had dumped a load of the white stuff overnight and I said ‘****###**’.
The problem with our remote but delightful cottage is that even though the roads are ‘ok’ or ‘passable with care’, we can’t actually GET down the lane that leads to the road.
So. I’m cold again. I’m snowed in again. I’m broke again. The garden looks very sad again. I fear for the lives of my daffodils again. My knees and hands are purple again.
I really would forgive Mr Motivator and his jolliness right now. I need motivating. Or do I? Actually I don’t think I can be bothered to get motivated.