Bloody spasms driving me to distraction for a couple of days now.
I think there’s a connection with heat too, or lack of it, ‘below the waist’.
Last night a lovely friend of mine was burgled.
It was quite telling in retrospect that my reaction was purely and only concern for her, and her security. After about an hour, or maybe 2, I wondered what had been taken.
Stuff is just stuff. Even sentimental stuff is just stuff. Safety and safety from harm are so much more important, it’s incredible.
Tomorrow I go to a quiz night. I’m in a parents team, though I don’t really know my team mates. I asked if we had a team name. I was told no.
As the venue is somewhere called the Bishop’s Centre, I suggested we call ourselves ‘ Bashing the Bishop’. I think I may have convinced my team mates that it’s a religious expression, as a lot aren’t British born.
Hope I get away with it…