August 16, 2017

Weeks thirty-one and thirty-two

Posted in August, November tagged , at 12:14 pm by viewfromthisdesk

It’s been an interesting and difficult fortnight. However, I can’t say I wasn’t expecting it. I write this blog trying to pretend no one reads it, or at least if they do, I don’t know them. You are all unknown and mysterious.

That is a daft frame of mind I appreciate, but if I’m going to write then that’s the mindset I start from. Because if I think about you as an individual, as a friend or family member, I’m not going to be honest because I don’t want you to worry or be upset. I protect you from the truth and no one wins. You don’t know I’m struggling and I bottle it all up.

I totally know that my post ‘when the darkness wins’ has upset some of you. I also know that my post ‘One Million Lovely Letters’ was much more cheery and read by half the people.

So unless you sign up to get these witterings by email, you might miss the happy ones. Relying on faceache to show you everything is like relying on Father Christmas to bring you that new car *and* squeeze it down the chimney without scratching it. So click on the grey box that says follow and you get to laugh with me much more than crying.

I was humbled by what followed both those blog postings. I received my very own Lovely Letter, not from Jodi but from someone else who had watched the programme and thought of me and then read my blog post about the show. That random Lovely Letter made my week. It’s amazing what a stamp and ten minutes of your time can do to cheer someone up. So I encourage you all to do it because I can vouch for the magic it makes. I also wrote three of my own Lovely Letters. I didn’t manage one a day for a week but three is better than none. And I want to do it again soon.  I may have cheated insomuchas one of them was typed and one of them was a post-it note sized card but I still did it.

I also had surprise parcels and gifts. I had a gorgeous bunch of yellow flowers from a dear friend and they also brought doughnuts which were lush. I had a packet of kit kats which you all know I have a weakness for, an engraved spoon which has more meaning than just the words etched into it and a manatee tea strainer which is so epic that I cannot put into words.  And all these things before my birthday!

So maybe I need to be more aware that people do care about me and my mental health. Maybe I’m not as alone as I thought I was. People may be geographically distant but not emotionally.  And if I upset you then please tell me, or if you have questions then ask them.  Ask me to elaborate on something or discuss further or pass on sources etc.  If you interact then I know you’ve read and are interested.  Email me, messenger me, a proper letter even!  Human interaction can be lost in this modern technology filled world.  Tell me you saw that scenario I wrote about from a different point of view.  Challenge my negative thoughts and memories.  Recommend a film to watch or a book to get on my kindle and then we can talk about it like proper grown ups.

I hide behind these sentences because I cannot meet you for a drink in town or travel to your sofa or speak to you on the phone.  I use this writing medium to explain the stuff that my speech issues prevent me from saying.  I can type at 2am a reply to a message.  So don’t read and be sad, read and reach out and tell me how things are.  Tell me it’s not like that, tell me it’s actually somehow different.  Help me look at things from a different angle, through different coloured glasses.  Remind me to stop eating everything in sight.  Tell me about your lovely letter that you wrote and the feedback you got from it.

I’m still here, just not physically.

July 25, 2017

One Million Lovely Letters

Posted in July tagged , , , , , at 10:22 am by viewfromthisdesk

I had planned to write a post about suicide, which is nice and cheery but then that all changed last night.  As ever, I’m referring to something I saw on tv which got me thinking.  And crying and laughing.  If you didn’t watch it, find it on iplayer.

Last night on BBC1 at 7.30 was a program about a lass called Jodi who started writing letters to total strangers.  She has a target to write ‘One Million Lovely Letters’ and some of the people featured talked about how her letter had arrived at a really difficult time and had gotten them through.  One guy was from Canada and had fixed her letter to his computer so it was a daily reminder.  Letters, words, ink on paper are powerful things.

I used to love writing – my teenage years were full of writing to friends and boyfriends.  The angst of those years would pour out as my inky scrawl would fill pages and pages.  I’d look for colourful envelopes and nice paper.  I’d save any money I had for stamps which were much cheaper back then.  I’d feel full of love and excitement when I had an envelope for me when I got home from school.  That someone had taken the time to sit and write to me, take that time to think about me and want to connect with me, that was magical.

I still have notes from people from when I was 14, I’ve kept them and I re-read them.  My gratitude jar was amazing for the couple of years that it worked.  But it’s not been contributed to for a while.  Maybe I haven’t done anything with anyone worth writing about?  But that was amazing, tipping that out on New Years Day, seeing what people had scribbled on the back of a cinema ticket or shopping receipt.  Because it didn’t have to be an essay it could just be ‘I had a really nice time with you today’.  Something so simple makes a huge impact.

I miss it.  I miss writing terribly.  Holding a pen is absolute torture now and it’s all I can do to write happy birthday to someone.  Emails and faceache just are not the same.  They’re nice, but not the same.  I try and write proper letters to people but I have to type them now which I think is somewhat bad mannered.  It’s cheating.  But it’s all I can do and so I console myself with ‘at least I’ve written’ and try not to think about the medium within which I have written.

So, going back to the show – Jodi last night, had set up a webpage where you could request a letter.  At the time of filming, she had 8,000 waiting emails.  According to Twitter, she had over 1,500 emails during the program.  There are that many people out there, who feel that they need that random act of kindness from a stranger to tell them that it will be okay, that they will get through, that they are enough.  And I’ll be honest, I wanted to add myself to that list.  But now I know how many people have also asked, I don’t want to add to her pressure.  I don’t want to make her feel overwhelmed.  In all honesty, I don’t feel worthy.

So. if you find yourself with half an hour this week or weekend, write someone a letter.  Or a card.  Or just a post-it note.  Or rearrange the fridge magnets if you can’t be bothered to pick up a pen.  Tell someone you like their hair, their top, that they made you smile today, that they *are* enough.  Take lyrics from a song (with credits in case they want to listen to it) if you can’t think of anything!  Maybe challenge yourself to write to one different person every day for a week.  Spend fifty pence on a stamp, make them feel special.  It’s important.

Or do what Jodi did.  Write a note and hide it on the bus or train or in the communal fridge.  It doesn’t have to be huge.  Just a handful of words on a boring square of paper.  You don’t even have to add stickers or glitter or a smiley face.

Words hurt and that hurt lasts a lifetime.  But words can also make someone’s life turn turtle in a good way.  Words can remind someone that it’s worth persevering, that it’s worth struggling through because somewhere out there, someone does give a stuff.  Someone does care.

October 11, 2016

Long time coming

Posted in November tagged , , , , , at 12:01 pm by viewfromthisdesk

It’s bizarre how fast this year is progressing.  Yesterday was apparently eleven weeks until yuletide which is scary enough to remind me I haven’t even given it a thought yet.  I was also reminded that two years ago I was in a pretty bad place and my meds had been increased significantly and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

With a condition like ME, nothing is ever constant.  There never seems to be a pattern or a routine that gives you the heads up on anything.  I am aware of situations that don’t help my physical or mental well being but these are not set in stone.  For example, last week I was temping and this usually makes me really, really ill.  The long days, stressful working conditions, bright lights, driving at busy times, it all combines to usually leave me in bed for the weekend at least.  Last week was particularly mental.  It was so busy and there was no one else to take the pressure off (usually I can shout that I’m locking myself in the loo to get away from the phones for five minutes and someone else will cover them) and I ended up working ten hours on the one day.  It wasn’t fun.  And then sensibly, I decided to throw my flu jab in the mix of a crazy week.

I have a jumble of feelings about the flu jab.  I have it because it’s offered to me and I don’t usually get anything free so I’m inclined to take it whilst it’s there.  I have it because my immune system is shot to pieces and so if I got any sort of bug it would flatten me for a couple of weeks.  I don’t like it though because it usually ruins me for a good couple of days.  Last year I had to miss a gig we had planned to go to because I was so nauseous and wobbly.  This year I was expecting to feel rubbish but figured that it would be combined with post-temping rubbish-ness and I’d just get it all over with in one hit.  This year I’ve (so far) felt okay.  Aside from the usual lumpy sore arm, it’s been okay.  I like this current mix of poison that they’ve given me.

I seem to be managing in the short term at the moment, I do feel that I’m taking a micro-management approach right now.  Rather than trying to plan in scales of weeks or months I am literally going from day to day, half day to half day.  It seems to be working for the time being.  It does mean that there are extra clothes/strappings/hot water bottles/tens machines scattered around the house but it’s how I’m coping for the moment.  I have a huge amount going on in my life for the time of year, usually I’m enjoying the leaves changing and the time to sit with Pirate Cat but that’s not possible right now.  And maybe, because I’m so busy trying to do so much is why the micro management is working because I’m trying to be well, or at least vertical, for so many things that I need to just get through one thing after another.  I’m sure it will all come crashing down in a pile of tears and ibuprofen gel and whatnot but for the time being, I’m surviving.

July 5, 2016

Learning the art of balance

Posted in July tagged , , , , , , , at 2:29 pm by viewfromthisdesk

I’ve been utterly awful at the whole ‘pacing and prioritising’ thing that the medical peeps bang on about.  I’ve been brought up with the ‘if something needs doing, get on and do it’ attitude and approach.  It’s hard to change something that has been forced into your brain for so long.

This year has been the most challenging for me so far.  I’ve spent way more time on my crutches than in any year previously.  I’d like to claim it’s because I want to show off my gorgeous coloured sticks but it isn’t.  My joints and balance have been particularly horrendous this year and I cannot attribute it to any particular reason other than this condition is deteriorating.  I’m not doing as much physical stuff as I used to or indeed want to.  Any fun event is wrapped in days of resting and relaxing and neoprene things.  My bat work is set up on the basis of not much walking around on site and me being somewhere I can sit for the survey which is neither professional or ideal.  Concerts are few and far between this year.

On the back of all that misery however, I had a light bulb moment last week which I feel deserves praise.  I was working away for ten days, at what I call my temping job.  It’s a tough gig though.  It’s a proper eight to nine hour day, it’s constantly busy and noisy and bright.  There is nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape to when it gets too much and certainly no flexible working hours.  It always makes me ill and I’m absolutely aware it makes me ill so nothing *should* be planned for the time I’m temping.  Nothing except sleep and more meds.

In previous years, I’ve taken the approach that of course I can do it all.  Of course I can temp and keep house and do bat surveys and have a social life, of course I’ll be fine.  With bad consequences.

This time, I literally just did temping.  The house is now a mess, I turned down bat work and I had no life outside of the nine hour day.  It was work-home-pyjamas-sleep.  So I managed some time of balance.  Not in the literal sense because I was on my multi coloured sticks for the whole time, but balance in terms of not trying to do it all.

But how do I now not over compensate for this week of being sensible?  This week I have booked three surveys with another as a possible.  I desperately need to turn into some crazy person with the ability to clean the house (even though housework is one of my worst pain triggers) and make it all look normal and respectable.  I just can’t do everything in a sensible and balances fashion, I’m wading through treacle whilst being stuck inside a constricting jumper.  I can’t employ someone to clean because I can’t afford it.  I can’t turn down temping or bat work because I can’t afford to do that too.

I’m clinging to the ‘look how well I did last week’ attitude in the hope that no one will notice what a mess I’m making of this week!

May 3, 2016

Life is too short to not live in pyjamas

Posted in May tagged , at 2:40 pm by viewfromthisdesk

There is reasoning behind my random title.  Having just had a lovely four days off work, what with the early Spring Bank Holiday and a cheeky Friday off work because one of my besties was visiting I have realised that I spent a large chunk of those four days, dressed in pyjama trousers.

They’re fab trousers, I’ll have you know.  Burgundy with reindeers on them, so totally appropriate for May.  But they are comfortable and soft and don’t have zips or buttons which has to be the best feature of them by far.  I wasn’t totally mad, I didn’t wear them to the concert on Friday night and I didn’t wear them when we left the confines of the house and garden to venture into The Great Outdoors.  I did however, mooch around my garden plenty in them.  Sometimes paired with a vaguely similar coloured t-shirt, sometimes my dressing down, sometimes my coat.  Who cares.

I have to be thankful for the little things that occurred whilst wearing my amazing pyjamas.  My friend still visited, knowing full well that pyjamas are a core part of my wardrobe sometimes.  The chickens still got fed and laid eggs – they don’t care what I’m wearing.  A lovely mate came to collect said eggs and didn’t give two hoots about my outfit.  My friend and I cleared out the poly tunnel greenhouse (bonkers idea on my part) and we finally managed to ice the Christmas cake.  Yep, you read that correctly.

What I guess I’m trying to share is that sometimes, pyjamas are a suitable outfit.  Things got done around the place regardless of my reindeer clad legs.  I was comfortable and felt capable of doing stuff.  That has to be a bonus.  I’m not sure my neighbours appreciated my clothing choices but that’s for them to deal with in their own minds.  The fact I was out of bed and kinda vertical is a achievement on my part which I’m celebrating.

 

And because I know everyone wants updating: the rose bed still needs weeding.

April 4, 2016

No April Fool here

Posted in April tagged , , at 2:17 pm by viewfromthisdesk

As ever, my monthly goals fell by the wayside.  Or maybe not so much by the wayside as off a cliff in slow motion, road-runner style.

I’ve finally managed to weed one of my rose beds, but that happened yesterday so hardly a March achievement.  I’ve still got my big rose bed to sort out but the enthusiasm for this is absent.  I’m not sure what to do in all honesty.  My hands are only going to get worse, although that’s hard to imagine considering how useless they are anyway and my ability to grip is not going to improve.  I don’t want to lose my roses, three of the four were gifts for my 21st but if I can’t look after them it’s not going to end well, is it?

My shoes were sorted.  Kinda.  Three pairs have been thrown away.  Ten pairs are in a pile for taking to the charity shop and the remaining ones are in a storage crate in the middle of the living room.  My excuse is I need a bigger plastic store box for them to go in but I’m not allowed to go to B&Q unaccompanied* so I’m a bit scuppered.  The plan is to have this crate in my overflow wardrobe and it’ll just have my lovely ‘for special occasions only’ shoes in them.  You know, the pairs that are bought to just go with one particular outfit and that one outfit is worn once every three years if you’re lucky.

The issue that has been generated from sorting my shoes though is that whilst I’ve managed to remove thirteen pairs of shoes from my collection in one form or another, I have established that I need to replace my wellies very soon and also my trusty walking boots (that I wear on bat sites, not for walking!) as I’ve had them forever and I can’t imagine they won’t die on me in the middle of this season.  But why is it that the two pairs of shoes I’ve found I need to replace are the most expensive ones?!! So annoying.

Needless to say, wellies are now on my wish list and I’m hoping I can make do with the split pair I’ve got until the summer when hopefully the birthday fairies will take pity on me.

April targets aren’t going to be set.  I’m not going to bother and then I might have a positive twist on things in a few weeks when I can go ‘actually, I achieved this and this’ one of which will hopefully be my modern art installation of shoes has been relocated!

 

 

*I’d like to quickly point out that I’ve not been banned from B&Q or that the unaccompanied thing has been set by the company, it’s actually come from hubby as my visits to the shop of dreams (as it’s known, I have a particularly tragic life) often lead to decorating plans and ideas or conversations that begin ‘I’ve seen this, what do you think ….?’  Which he doesn’t want to be encouraged because if I suddenly wanted to decorate something or somewhere, he’d have to give up time at the railway and we can’t have that.  So even though I only want to go for two plastic boxes, I have to wait for a chaperone.

Two boxes? I hear you question.  Well, yes.  One for shoes and one for my new genius idea.

A hedgehog feeding station.  Of course!

March 4, 2016

March Madness

Posted in March tagged , , , at 1:24 pm by viewfromthisdesk

In January I wrote about setting myself little targets each month so that things didn’t seem utterly overwhelming.  I set myself three targets to achieve by the end of February, these were to write my thank you letters from Christmas, to weed two rose beds and to eat somewhere new.

Well, I wrote my letters so that’s a good start.  It was tough going and I did end up typing them but I decided that typing was better than not writing at all.  It did mean I had a huge expanse of empty white space to fill though which was really daunting.  Thank goodness that as an adult I don’t get many presents anymore!

I haven’t weeded my rose beds.  They look awful.  I am ashamed.

Eating somewhere new was managed, just not quite how I’d intended.  There is a place in town that hubby and I have wanted to go to for ages, which we were going to eat at on Monday night for our engagement anniversary that didn’t happen.  Aside from that, I went out for lunch with a couple of my bat girlies to this very place so I’m counting that as a win.  Any meal time will do quite frankly.  We still want to go to this place, we’ll probably aim to go for April which is when we got together.

So my March targets have to be:

  1. Get better! I need to shift this lurgy that has taken residence in my chest.
  2. Weed the rose beds and prune the clematis climbers. I’ve had an email to say it needs to happen now to ensure a good display of flowers.  Maybe sub consciously,  I keep hoping that some secret gardening fairy will turn up for a random act of kindness, but it’s unlikely so I’ve just got to get on with it.
  3. Sort out my shoes. I’m no Imelda Marcos but I have lots of shoes that I now never can wear again. I’ve held onto them for an unknown reason, pride maybe, proof that I did once wear these gorgeous things, but my joints and social life do not allow lovely heeled shoes any longer.  If anyone reading this is a size UK 5 feel free to come and help me and have first dibs!
  4. Something new. I’m not sure what I mean by this exactly but in a vague way it’s along the lines of wanting to push my life boundaries a bit. I’m not going to suddenly book myself in for a skydive or start collecting imperial sized nuts and bolts, more something along the lines of visiting somewhere or trying something (food, music, theatre-esque) or experiencing something unknown and previously undiscovered.  My conditions limit so much and I’ve allowed myself to become an utter social hermit.  Too scared to try anything really.  I’m not sure how this will pan out but I’ve got to have the idea lodged in my brain.

shoe mountain

(This isn’t my shoe mountain, it’s an image I’ve stolen from someone else on the interweb.  Although I do like those red ones in the middle.  Would never be able to wear them but they’re very lovely!)

 

I’d be grateful for any help anyone can offer, be it physically or motivationally.

February 29, 2016

Confessions from a Leap Year proposee

Posted in February tagged , at 2:41 pm by viewfromthisdesk

Two leap years, eight calendar years ago I became one of those desperate women that was fed up of waiting for tradition and popped the question to my then boyfriend.

And I had been more than patient.  Honestly I had.  We’d been together nearly eleven years by this point.  Eleven long years.  Of which half had been wondering if and when he might ask me.  Birthdays, Christmas, Valentines, our Anniversary and holidays were all spent hoping, wishing, waiting.  I was the absolute definition of pathetic.

It’s not as if marriage hadn’t been discussed.  It wasn’t a subject that we were pretending didn’t exist.  On my 18th birthday, when we’d been together just four months, he gave me a ring.  A gorgeous gold band of eternity type promise.  He said that it wasn’t an engagement ring but a commitment ring.  One that would be ‘upgraded’ when I finished my degree.

Except I didn’t finish my degree in the conventional fashion.  I left university early, returned back and set up home with him.  Friends and relations got engaged and then married around the time that he had said would be for us.  Radio Silence.  I finished my degree with the Open University, on my graduation day I was proud of what I achieved and secretly waited for that magical moment.  It didn’t come before the graduation ceremony, nor over lunch with our immediate family or during the meal that weekend with the rest of our family.

I wondered what was wrong with me, why he didn’t see forever with me.  He was happy for me to be cook, cleaner and candle-stick maker on a daily basis, he said he had no intention of seeking a life elsewhere and yet he didn’t want to make it official.  The more people asked or pushed, the more silent and annoyed he became with the subject.  So we all shut up.  And waited.

More radio silence.

Eleven years is a long time to wait and question what is wrong with oneself.  It was utterly soul destroying and there was nothing I could do about it.  Until February 2008.  I’m a traditional girl at heart, I wanted it to be proper, I wanted the fairytale with shooting stars, rose petals, a nice speech.  I wasn’t wanting a flash mob dance or fireworks spelling it out in the sky or anything more than a nice dinner.  Whichever way it was still a foolish notion.

And then we were on holiday for leap years day and just prior to going away a friend said ‘so are you going to ask him then?’  Bizarrely, it had never occurred to me.  Some time in the previous past had been a television programme on ITV where women proposed to men on live tv and then show number two was whether he sais yes or not and then the marriage, there and then.  He had said (whilst he endured this programme) that if I ever did that to him, he would say no and walk away.  He didn’t want to be embarrassed.   Five minutes before ‘doing the deed’ I suddenly remembered this tv programme.  Panic.

People will say I have my fairytale now, I have my happy ever after.  I asked, he said yes, fairy dust was sprinkled, everyone has perfect skin and Disney-style smiles.  But I do wonder if I did the right thing.  Should I have asked?  Where would my life be now if I hadn’t?  Hubby freely admits when asked (by others) that he would never have asked me, it wasn’t something he’d considered getting around to.  It wasn’t on his radar of things to do.

Today should be a day of celebration, of positive memories and giggles.  Instead, this day comes around and I dwell on the regret, the questioning – should I have done it?

It isn’t helping that we’re both ill today.  He’s getting over a chest infection and I think I’m at the beginning of it.  I’ve been ill with some flu-cold-lurgy thing for three weeks now and it just isn’t abating.  Maybe I’m feeling down about looking back because I can’t breathe, sleep, eat, move.  We were going to go out for a meal tonight at some new place we’ve both been wanting to try since it opened and we’ve had to cancel our booking.  If he remembers, I guess we’ll be toasting our anniversary with lemsips tonight.

At the last leap year, I said something on facebook along the lines of ‘don’t do it if you can’t live with the disappointment of not getting the fairytale.’  I think I still stand by that.  I may be a strong, independent, modern woman but just once it would have been nice to have been floored by tradition.

January 25, 2016

January Bucket List

Posted in January tagged , at 10:30 am by viewfromthisdesk

I’ve stopped making resolutions, they never worked out for me too well and I have enough misery-via-failure in my life that I don’t need to add to the pile myself.  A few years ago I started doing a list of ‘x-things in 20x’ which kinda worked out and kinda didn’t.  Some things were beyond my control – like dates for epic Severn Bore events and all my targets for further or maintained weight loss disappeared under a pile of satisfying kit kat chunkies.  And there’s no regret within a kit kat wrapper.

So this year I’m going to do monthly bucket lists.  Maybe if I break stuff down into smaller targets, they might just happen?  So here is January.  Which will probably become February as well because the month is almost over!

* Write Christmas thank-you letters.

Shameful I know, that we’re four weeks on and this hasn’t been done.  In my teenage years, our gifts wouldn’t be ours until we’d written our thank you letters, so it should be part of my very being to write them on Christmas afternoon, or Boxing Day morning at the very latest.  I really wanted to hand write them this year.  I don’t know why I thought that being as I struggled to write a tiny amount of Christmas cards.  I think I’ll be sitting at the computer instead and hope that the recipient is happy with a letter, regardless of whether it’s typed or drunken-dancing-spider scrawl.

* Weed rose beds x2

These beds are tiny.  Honestly.  But weeding is a task I struggle with because of the amount of physical effort it takes; bending down, walking through the garden, grabbing the plant, twisting, pulling, shaking.  Yes I’ve got a gadget that helps but it’s still not doing it for me.  I can’t hire someone to do it for me; I can’t hope it will do it magically overnight itself.  I can’t keep asking friends and family to do it for me.

* Eat somewhere new.

So this is combining a positive thing – my love of food – with a negative – my fear of making plans to go out in case I (choose from a long list of reasons not restricted to) fall over and make a fool of myself, drop cutlery, drop food, start slurring my words, have to cancel because I’m ill, make myself ill because I force myself to go out when I know I’m not 100% because I don’t want people to think badly of me for cancelling plans *again* or the worst one at the moment, have to ask someone to cut up my food because whilst I’m able to be out in polite society, I’m not able to hold cutlery or exert force to cut up my food and don’t want to simply order mashed potato and shovel it like a toddler into my cake-hole.  Eating somewhere new will enable me to make one date plan, manage my time around it, meet up with friends who I don’t see otherwise and then, STUFF MY FACE.  Win-win.

Join me in maniacal laughter when we get to March 1st and these three things didn’t happen.

January 13, 2016

January blues

Posted in January tagged , at 12:06 pm by viewfromthisdesk

I realise I’ve not written for a while. It got to the point that every time I thought about typing something, it was very negatively-based either because I was feeling down or something had happened and I needed to break that cycle.  I know that those of you who read this are doing so because you want to support me through the bad times as well as the good but I need to start giving you both sides of my life.  Otherwise I’m just going to convince you I’m a miserable, grumpy mare.

 

I went through my Gratitude Jar from 2015 a couple of days into the New Year.  I aimed for New Years Day again but I had that rubbish flu bug thing over Christmas and New Year so spent a huge chunk of time asleep or horizontal in my ‘jamas.  Well, what else is two weeks off work for?!!? I was surprised by some of the notes in there, mainly because I’d forgotten that I’d written about events.  There were very few notes from other people which was a shame as those were the notes I loved most in the previous years.  I can’t expect people to continually contribute to my jar though.  I haven’t yet decided if I’m doing a 2016 jar, I think I’d like to but we’ll see.

 

But I found this note when I was going through it and it really struck a cord.  Almost one year on, it’s still utterly relevant so I figured I’d share it as my first positive thing of the year.

IMAG0591

 

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