Life is a river, everything changes
An old lady knocked on my door.
I said “Hello”
She said, “I hope you don’t mind, my husband built this house.”
I was confused and left space for the explanation.
“It was the first house on this section” she continued, looking back to the road. “We bought it from the farmer.”
I wondered whether she was still talking to me.
“I hope you don’t mind but I see that you have been doing a lot of work on the place.”
We had totally renovated, an 8 month project, I was still titivating.
I remembered my manners. “Would you like to come in?” I put the roller in a plastic bag and tapped the lid back on the pot of paint. Continue reading “Advise Safe”
Day Two – I have to audit myself.
Today’s task: audit your brand — look at all the ways your blog communicates to visitors to make sure it’s consistent and focused — and make one update to reinforce your brand.
Oh dear, it looks tricky and scary, but these guys know what they are doing, so I spent six hours today, changing themes. updating widgets, footers and headers and generally looking at this site, and the sites of those I admire. It appears my theme was not longer being used – sad face- Guess what I chose another theme, it is Penscratch 2, I was using Penscratch 1. Hahahaha , I had no idea what I was already using, I hit the LIVE button and the sky fell in. I lost all my custom settings.
Continue reading “Changing My Image”
I must resist the gusts and stand tall, my roots are strong.
I am wide awake in the early hours of a cold and windy Saturday morning. My already fragmented slumber, pierced by the sound of my mobile phone announcing a text. A constant companion, my phone is usually in my pocket all day, in case some foul event descends upon one of my beloved. I don’t know how my mum coped without this constant reassurance that if one of her children or husband were involved in something dreadful, she would know one nanosecond later.
During the day at work, when my phone is in my pocket, I rarely hear the requests, hi and where are you , yet when it is on the kitchen bench or as it was tonight under a pillow on the sofa, meters away from my body, its boingy happy sound fills the whole house. Tonight it made me jump out of bed and stumble along the hall, arms outstretched like one of the zombie dead. I read the message through blinking, bloodshot eyes, my son, is on another continent, but is happy and doing well. Yay, I run back and tell my husband who has the enviable knack of listening, making the right reply, rolling over and resuming his sleep within, I would say less than a minute.
Continue reading “Campfire stories”