Meetings

I met my friend John last week: actually, thats only partially true. I met my friend John when we were both about 9 years old. And, I met my friend John again last week - we have met on many other occasions.

I gave John a hint where to find this blog; so far it has hidden itself extremely well in the evil web that when I looked at my "hits" I saw that there was one - the first for weeks - last week I must assume that John, clever bugger, did indeed find it. Given my hit rate he (you...) may be my only reader.

That - audience - is not a problem: Rambling is a problem. Over hill and dale I trudge barely getting any closer to saying what I intend to say at some point in this blog. Oh, delayed at the blog by a bog while I rambled lonely as a cow looking for a distant tent.

Anyway. John found an address for me of another friend from way back when (when?) - but this is the address of a long-lost friend. One with whom I lost contact 20 or more years ago. John is a nasty, horrid, evil, journo (John, if you are reading this then obviously I am refering to another John altogether who has been, up to this point, not mentioned) and has access to info that allows him to track down lost people.

This friend, who will for now, perhaps forever, remain nameless lives further along the coast. I sent him a postcard, he'll get it today. I wonder if he will get in contact. I'll let you (and you John) know.

Also, another friend who was not entirely lost, but was nonetheless unfindable has made more contact than usual. Someone that I had a big falling out with - offering a cooling in relations. Something that always seems a good idea to me.

Who knows - 2008 - a year for finding the things that we lost but did not know we had - like a cow trying to find a tent that she did not know was hers to have. I have never seen a cow in a tent - odd, both are so commonly found in fields.

Take care love bunnies.

Pxxx

The Pace of My Blogging is Slowing With My Heart And My Over-USe Of Capital Letters

And a cow, as we so often say, is the winner of a distant tent.

This winter - following on from illness I had the great fun of some extensive dental surgury to fill holes left in my jaw 22 years ago when a bicycle and I had an arguement with the road beneath us - a road, ladies and gentlemen, which I do believe was speeding! Eeeek, the drilling, the injections, the pulling, grinding, drooling and scraping. Not nice.

What was nice was the care I recieved - the surgeon and 2 nurses. They seemed to understand the power of a gentle word and the lightest touch of a hand on mine. For me the joy of that contact was far more significant than the pain and displeasure of the horrid process itself.

Eeek stitches all around my teeth. It took me back to the time when I bashed my face in the first time. Stitches in my tongue: I didnt like that.

Pxxxxx