Today My Husband Lied

Today my husband lied. 

About my cooking. 

He said that it was fantastic.

I believed him for a minute. 

Then I tasted it.

😂

Category 1: Choosing the right partner ♥️

Category 2: My poor family

Category 3: Hunting for a cook ego can cook because it certainly isn't me

42!

Turning 42 with this bunch 🥰

All that the crackers are doing is scaring the birds.

Humans are the worst.

Happy New Year everyone.

2024

That paap will remain with them...

And, this is 41. Learning to hide the fat 😏

I told my husband to spend lots of time with our sons.

That's all that they need.

And money.

😁

What I love about Christians, the real ones, is that they consciously care. 

Stay Rooted in Love and Kindness

A friend's mother wrote a note for him on his birthday. One line from it stuck - Stay rooted in love and kindness.

Do people look at me and think I've gone mad the way I do them?

#instagram #vapid #shallow #humanityatitsbestworst

The Things We Think But Don't Say Aloud

The other day, in an attempt to become a better person, I asked a friend for honest feedback. The feedback was that I can be judgemental. And, when I think about it, he's absolutely right. But then, aren't we all?

To me, the things that I think are merely observations. But, to others, I guess, it's judgement. So, while I am not making a conscious effort to curb my judgemental thoughts, I am making an effort to curb my judgemental tongue because why should anyone be subjected to it? 

Still, I need to somehow get these 'observations' out of my system. So, a post on a blog that isn't read by anyone is the way! 

Here they are.

If she actually exercises as much as she makes it look like she does on her social media page, why is she still so fat?

If he's SO clever, and is, in fact, better than everyone else and the genius he claims to be, then why hasn't he achieved a single significant thing in his life?

That's it. 

Everything at my disposal. 

Except time 

Just Desserts

When bad things happen to people who have done bad things, we silently think to ourselves - serves them right. 

And, then we feel bad for having uncharitable thoughts.

I want to tell the story about the man who screwed his brother and sister over.

About, the nasty young girl who grew into a nasty adult.

About the awful child that I, myself, was.

But, I won't. Because, even if I have uncharitable thoughts, I can stop myself from putting them into words. Even if they make for a good story.

Instead, I'm going to try and think about all the bad things that have happened to me. I'm then going to think about the bad things I've done. Ask around, get some honest answers and try to be a better person.

I suppose that not writing honest blog posts should be a good first step 😅

Wherever you are. Come back. Write

When I first started writing, in the early days of blogging, I followed a few people. I think, in those days, it was only (or mostly) the thinkers who blogged. People with time to think, opinions to share, stories to tell. The stories - they could draw you in and wrap you around the life of a stranger. 

No one writes anymore.

The people whose lives I followed, where I would be happy when they were happy and silently wish for the best for them when things seemed tough. 

I what to know what happened next. 

Is the byker still as clever as ever?

Did that girl find joy after all that sadness?

Could that one special person ever bring himself to forgive me?

I wish they would all start writing again.

40

I didn't mark my 39th year. But here's 40.

Rotting lilies

Don't You Wonder?

Me.

Don't you wonder how things turned out for me? 

Do you wish me well? 

Perhaps not.

You know; the house, the dog and the car? That's me, living the middle-class dream. At the bottom of the top of the pyramid.

You.

You gave me Asimov and Gaiman and Massive Attack.

You were perfect. Just not for me.

And I, I didn't know you. I didn't know you at all.

I am you. And what I see is me.

Heartbroken

Today, I heard the story of my father and his brother and sister.

My grandparents (their parents) left a 5,7 and 8 year old behind in India to go to Africa and work for the British. It seems that the schools there weren't very good. So, the children were left behind in the care of relatives.

I imagine that the children were devastated.

My father was only five. Imagine a five-year-old being separated from his mother?

It seems that they were sent by train from Mangalore to Mysore and my uncle who was all of eight years old stood the whole way.

I'm sure they did what they believed was the best but...I think it was actually the worst

:-(

Category: Heartbroken

Phoenix

I don't know if anyone even comes here anymore. But if you do, I want you to know that I've started writing again. Here.

♥️

38

This year I forgot to mark the day on the date. So, I'm doing it now.

That's us celebrating with lunch at Harima  

What do I really want to do?

Do I want to do social work? No.

Do I want to help the less fortunate? No.

Do I want to help better the world? No.

I just want to do or make something clever. 

Bombalatty

I don't know why, but it's always fatso that like to point out that my dog is fat or make comments about her weight.

Category 1: Shadow
Category 2: Fatty fatty

Do you miss having a full night's sleep?

I don't remember what it feels like to sleep through the night. So, no. I don't miss it.