I try hard not to be too shocked by the words that spew forth from our offspring's mouths, however, this stunned me for a few seconds last week.
''I don't want breakfast today because I'm fasting.''
OK. Don't panic. Go with the flow Suze.
The pain comes suddenly and I'm also forced to fast due to a 'mild' throat infection, which I find very hard to swallow. MILD, I don't think so Doc, it's keeping me up all night! I feel like I'm gulping down water laced with shards of glass or mini, rough-hewn hessian sacks, with rusty nails sticking out of the sides, (excessive use of I, I know, but I'm ill OK and feeling vulnerable).
Perhaps I'm just as big, soft and defenceless as those Yorkshire puddings Josh made last week? Apparently gingers do have lower pain thresholds than other colours.
My natural defences kick in, producing endless gallons of saliva which I have to swig down or spit out. OUCH, it's so sore! Would the dentist let me borrow one of his saliva sucking machines? The closest I will get to singing today is gargling some salt water solution. Trusting that the drugs will work, I won't listen to The Verve. OUCH, even swilling them down hurts, a lot! What has become of me? How will I ever survive a Yorkshire winter again?
Pain is different for all of us. Taking the introspective lens off myself and using the wide angle, world encompassing one, I see as you do, the horror of yet more terrorist attacks. Where is the antibiotic to permanently stop this suffering? I swallow my pride and my own temporary discomfort, determined once again not to give in to fear.
This will be my last post before the whirlwind summer of fun. I remain perpetually excited. A huge, heartfelt hug full of best wishes, to all those who are leaving this desert for new pastures. Thank you for all your friendship and support. Many thanks also to those of you who have educated the growing minds of dirtbag and Mini-Me. If I really like you I will probably friendship stalk you forever unless you tell me to get lost. To those of you who are staying in this hot, dusty place over the summer and beyond, keep flourishing. We will be returning in August when my Arabian Adventure will continue.
So, as I tie the laces of my trainers ready to walk deliriously back home, this classic track plays on full blast in my head. Odyssey sang it in 1981, but I prefer this 1989 version. It whisks me straight back into the sixth form common room with my girlfriends. We are sniggering and giggling whilst applying fruit flavoured Body Shop balms onto our pure, undefiled lips.
Smile, sing/gargle and dance along with me. Come on, it's only 5.50 minutes of your time.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3fxbZuPRpY
Safe and happy summer to everyone. I know a lot of you will still be working (''Bloody teachers, always on bloody holiday!'' Ay up, sounds like my extremely hard working, lovely brother), but I wish you the same things.
See you soon!
With love,
Susie xx
Our summer book club read is Dissolution by C.J. Sansom if you're interested.
The Drugs Don't Work by The Verve (1997)
FPI Project, Rich In Paradise/Going Back To My Roots (1989)
''I don't want breakfast today because I'm fasting.''
OK. Don't panic. Go with the flow Suze.
The pain comes suddenly and I'm also forced to fast due to a 'mild' throat infection, which I find very hard to swallow. MILD, I don't think so Doc, it's keeping me up all night! I feel like I'm gulping down water laced with shards of glass or mini, rough-hewn hessian sacks, with rusty nails sticking out of the sides, (excessive use of I, I know, but I'm ill OK and feeling vulnerable).
Perhaps I'm just as big, soft and defenceless as those Yorkshire puddings Josh made last week? Apparently gingers do have lower pain thresholds than other colours.
My natural defences kick in, producing endless gallons of saliva which I have to swig down or spit out. OUCH, it's so sore! Would the dentist let me borrow one of his saliva sucking machines? The closest I will get to singing today is gargling some salt water solution. Trusting that the drugs will work, I won't listen to The Verve. OUCH, even swilling them down hurts, a lot! What has become of me? How will I ever survive a Yorkshire winter again?
Pain is different for all of us. Taking the introspective lens off myself and using the wide angle, world encompassing one, I see as you do, the horror of yet more terrorist attacks. Where is the antibiotic to permanently stop this suffering? I swallow my pride and my own temporary discomfort, determined once again not to give in to fear.
This will be my last post before the whirlwind summer of fun. I remain perpetually excited. A huge, heartfelt hug full of best wishes, to all those who are leaving this desert for new pastures. Thank you for all your friendship and support. Many thanks also to those of you who have educated the growing minds of dirtbag and Mini-Me. If I really like you I will probably friendship stalk you forever unless you tell me to get lost. To those of you who are staying in this hot, dusty place over the summer and beyond, keep flourishing. We will be returning in August when my Arabian Adventure will continue.
So, as I tie the laces of my trainers ready to walk deliriously back home, this classic track plays on full blast in my head. Odyssey sang it in 1981, but I prefer this 1989 version. It whisks me straight back into the sixth form common room with my girlfriends. We are sniggering and giggling whilst applying fruit flavoured Body Shop balms onto our pure, undefiled lips.
Smile, sing/gargle and dance along with me. Come on, it's only 5.50 minutes of your time.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3fxbZuPRpY
Safe and happy summer to everyone. I know a lot of you will still be working (''Bloody teachers, always on bloody holiday!'' Ay up, sounds like my extremely hard working, lovely brother), but I wish you the same things.
See you soon!
With love,
Susie xx
Our summer book club read is Dissolution by C.J. Sansom if you're interested.
The Drugs Don't Work by The Verve (1997)
FPI Project, Rich In Paradise/Going Back To My Roots (1989)
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