jmgoyder

wings and things

First figs!

pea 164pea 163

Just outside our back veranda there are two ancient fig trees – over 100 years old. Apparently fig trees symbolize abundance so that’s good! A lot of our friends and neighbours come and pick them to make jam so, at this time of year, I usually ring all of the figlovers I know because the trees are only prolific for around a month.

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My main computer has died so I am working with a miniminimini computer and having difficulty even seeing it! Apologies for not answering or commenting on yr blogs – tried but it’s too hard. I think I either need glasses or smaller fingers!

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Computer problems – arggghhhh!!!!

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Little holiday

I am going to take a little holiday from the blogosphere for awhile.

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The gobbling of grief

I cannot stand the media’s insatiable hunger for grief.

Misinformation and appalling inaccuracies are rife in the ruthless hunt for drama.

Tears are vultured into the camera and disseminated via a thousand sites.

This ghoulish gobbling of grief makes me sick, but I still watch and wait and wonder.

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Children

I just heard this morning about the massacre at the school in Connecticut and, having now read the news reports, seen footage and also read the many blogposts about this tragedy, I don’t have adequate words to add to the millions already said and written. I only have inadequate words, but I can’t say nothing at all, so here goes.

My body feels hugely heavy with grief for the deaths of those children and teachers, and empathy for the families, friends and survivors. I’ve read numerous comments about the whys and wherefores but really there is no why or wherefore. The ‘big child’ who committed the crime is dead too so there will never be an answer as to why he did this and why his rage (what else could it be?) was directed against little children and those who care for them.

When our only child Ming was the age of the children killed, my greatest fear was that I would lose him to illness or accident or abduction even, but fear of a massacre like this never, ever, entered my head. Never.

I keep thinking of the Christmas presents the parents of those children may already have wrapped and hidden, or put under the tree, and no children to open them. This is unbearable.

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Ritika’s blog is one of my absolute favourites – check it out!

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Bullying

No words.

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Love story 111 – Sorry

Some people can’t say this simple word, ‘Sorry’.

Anthony got a nurse to ring me the other night just so he could say it to me: “Sorry, Jules.”

“My ‘sorry’ is bigger than yours,” I quipped before we said goodnight,

Sorry.

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