Ten years ago I was writing several blogs on various subjects - F1 motor racing, Music, Classic Cars, Great Romances and, most crushingly, a personal journal that included my thoughts on America, memories of England and Africa, opinion, humour, writing and anything else that occurred. It all became too much (I was attempting to update the journal every day) and I collapsed, exhausted and thoroughly disillusioned in the end.
So this blog is indeed a Toe in the Water, a place to document my thoughts in and on WdC but with a determination not to get sucked into the blog whirlpool ever again. Here's hoping.
I did glaze over but that's because I have a migraine. I read it again ha ha ha. Gosh I often find myself thinking OMG I'm just like Mum or Dad and not all are the best versions of them either ha ha ha.
I loved my parents dearly and miss them every day. At 55 though I am realising more and more, I am my parents child, but mostly their good bits.
I can tell when my oldest daughter from Colorado visits with her hubby, who is a talker, lol. She acknowledges him with an "uh-hu" once in a while, but I can tell her mind is somewhere else.
Yes, in some ways, time does pass way too fast, but then again, when a person wants the days to fly past, they seem to drag on forever.
Right now, going through my last couple of infusions, it seems like time is almost going backwards, but I know, after the last one is done and I'm beginning to feel better, time will again race past me faster than I can grasp it.
It’s not the limitless expanse of the universe that makes us aware of our insignificance. It’s the vast, incomprehensible number of all the people who have ever lived and those who now inhabit the planet Earth. Each of us is a single grain of sand on a beach that goes on forever. And our only hope for being noticed amongst the myriads of our fellow creatures is that some day we might be driven by the wind from the beach to the sea and so to the depths where we might fall into the mouth of some oyster that then gets irritated enough to begin covering us with a coating of some smooth substance that hardens and eventually makes us into a pearl.
Even then we have to depend on the chance of being found and included in a cosmic string of pearls to grace some infinite neck. Kinda puts us into perspective, doesn’t it?
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