Thursday, November 28, 2013


I am listening to a story about Charles Dickens in the car in which various characters suffer from melancholia including the great man himself. So much nicer than "depression" don't you think? I suffer myself, "lower than a well-diggers heel". My brother, I have just heard is going down hill, his recovery wasn't permanent and he is in a bad way. I sobbed all day yesterday, I have worshipped him all my life, even though he had little time for me.  The last couple of years I have had small snippets of the closeness I always yearned for and it would break my heart to lose him.
Poor old Mum is really sad too.
Enough of that.
I have a date today and even though I have to fight myself not to cancel, I am going to the Art Gallery and then to lunch with a dear friend that I imagine is having the same battle not to cancel. I would never leave home if I had the choice.
Some pretty pictures for you ..............
all alone on the edge of the world

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