As Mary ate her topside with green peas,she gazed out of the front window where a police car was parked.They had gone to speak to her neighbours.Her neighbours had 23
dogs and a dead cat .all in the back garden for recreation and making holes in fences or other places
When Mary had come home from the delightful dentist she had been attacked by five of the dogs on her own patio
who were bored with their own garden so has made a hole in the fence as was their wont.
She sat silentky her mind brooding about animals,and their force, as she ate the last roast potato and wondered if she had a pudding
Suddenly a cold wind seemed to blow across the room as Annie her delightful neighbour
had run in without closing the back door firmly
Hello dear.Put the kettle on for me, Mary ordered Annie
I am sorry,Annie said,I have lost weight but even so the kettle won’t fit me
Why do you take things so literally,Mary asked?
I am trying to be funny, Annie muttered indecisively, her blood red lipstick melting down her chin and dripping onto the floor
Good grief, what a mess,Mary said.Hang on, your lips are bleeding
I keep biting them,Annie revealed.
Why?
To stop myself screaming at those people with the dogs.What will you do?
Her mascara from Mix Vector in dark brown began to melt and created streaks across her rose beige moisturising foundation from Bess of Ardent
Are you crying,Mary asked curiously
I must be.I have tears in my eyes.I am over-identifing with your feelings.
Empathy has its limits,Mary said sweetly>I phoned the police and they came here
They were amazed he has 23 dogs.They have gone to see him.
How can they afford to feed so many dogs?
Oh,I feel faint,ring 999
In ran Dave the bisexual, transvestment paramedic all dressed in tartan
Why are the police here, he asked anxiously
It’s about the dogs attacking Mary.
Shall I make some nice strong tea,Dave asked wisely
Good idea, said Annie
How is Emile taking this?
I’ve sent him to my sister’s for a break,But I miss him
Goodness me, what a terrible time we needyou are having
They all went into the lounge and sat down on the grey high backed armchairs
Here is the tea,Dave cried as he put the tray down on a low table.Don’t let it go cold~
Shall I give them some cake, he asked Mary?
Why not, she answered.See what you can find
It is very hard if neighbours attack you,Why, I’ve even read about murders at times like this,Dave cried.
Let’s see how it goes,Mary said quietly.They are not fools
I hope you are right,Dave said wisely
Rolling Stones never get mopped
Evert cloud has a silver lining~
When glum ,keep mum
Amen

Armageddon  comes and we don’t find
The time to stop and think and wonder at
The wrath of God, the thunder of his mind

Is he  the ground of   being undefined?
The earth where seeds are nurtured  by his  hands
Armageddon  comes and  we are blind

He is not  a sweet and compliant friend
Nor the lord of  rich and  fertile lands
His  the wrath  and his  the thunderous mind

As the storms washed men off Kentish sands
So God  hurls the energy he sends
Armageddon  comes and  we are blind

In these trials, whose hearts are refined?
Are  we open, can we each attend,
His  the sun and his  the mighty mind

As on the rocky path we wary stand
Below despair, we find the deep commands
Armageddon,  love and care are drained
The  grief of God, the  pity of his mind

I have studied and I’ve got my last degree
My heart has learned its lessons one by one.
I’m a graduate of the grief academy

I didn’t know how painful it would be
When the man you love is here and then is gone
I’ve been studied and I got the third degree

The tears I wept could wash out the Dead Sea
Remove the salt and scour the shore till done
I’m a graduate of the grief academy

I know now I must die,we cannot flee

We turn to dust and that is not much fun
I have studied and I’ve got my last degree

Ii is not News, not for the BBC.
Unless you’re Stephen Hawkings, that great man
We’re graduates of the grief academy

We can’t control life with a self made plan
God is gone though prayer might well begin
I have suffered till I got a new degree
I’m a graduate of the grief academy

I’ve been alone it seems an aeon.

I cried and wept and did my praying

He’s gone along with Leonard Cohen

He might come back but I won’t know him.

I’m not the person I once was

Look in the mirror help me god

The Case for Having a Hobby https://nyti.ms/2G2D0cG

Z

Isn’t it telling that you forgot?” said Brigid Schulte, author of “Overwhelmed: Work, Love and Play When No One Has the Time,” when I told her I had blanked on the word.

“That’s so indicative of where we are in our culture right now, that you can actually forget what it is to have something you like to do that’s not a) tied to work and b) productive,” Ms. Schulte said.

While researching her book Ms. Schulte realized how many “lifehacks” make hobbies out to be keys to productivity rather than activities just meant to be enjoyed, and she saw that it was difficult for people to get out of that way of thinking.

But eventually, she found that people responded to “neuroscience and research about how you need a space where you’re calm that leads to insight.” Yet even with that knowledge in hand, Ms. Schulte said, people still saw hobbies as means to improve their performance at work. “That’s the only way I can break through to people about why having leisure is important.”

Indeed, Americans’ difficult relationship with leisure is nothing new.

“People forget that when we were negotiating the Fair Labor Standards Act in 1938, there were three conditions people wanted: minimum wage, 40-hour workweek and mandatory two-week vacation,” Ms. Schulte said. We got two out of three, “and we’ve been stuck ever since.” One in four Americans has no access to paid time off, and those who do often don’t take all of their vacation time or they spend their vacations checking email. Many of us have been taught to hate not being productive, and we’ve structured our culture around work, not play.

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/01/well/mind/coronavirus-health-benefits-drawing-art-hobbies.html

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/22/opinion/david-zwirner-museums-coronavirus.html

I would contend that art and culture are the most important vehicles by which we come to understand one another. They make us curious about that which is different or unfamiliar, and ultimately allow us to accept it, even embrace it. Isn’t it telling that those societies most afraid of “the other” — the Nazis, Stalin’s Soviet Union, the Chinese under Mao — were not able to bring forth any significant cultural artifacts? Yet an abundance of work created in resistance to such ideologies can still dominate our cultural discourse.

Mary got all  dolled up in her new pink wool dress.She was going to visit her former neighbour Sally in her pleasan and friendly Care Home not far away

Which handbag will match this, she asked her tomcat  Emile.She did love a bag of fine quality as did he.

Not a black one, he muttered

How about blue?

Yes cerulean blue is pretty.

Mary put her keys and money into the bag,

It is very large,but never mind

Emile thought, Now my chance has come.

He donned his denim jacket and got a clean Hanky

Then when Mary was powdering her nose he hid inside the  gorgeous Enny bag

Powder puff £4 by Barks 2 Often

Buy  bag in G bay for £5000

Mary put the bag on her

shoulder and went to the

bus stop

And so will all of us

Soon the bus arrived.She picked up her beautiful bag and almost fell over.It was very heavy.

  I am getting old, she thought I can hardly lift my handbag Little did she suspect the truth That Emile was inside  trembling in fear in case Mary should drop the bag off the bus.He weighed 5 kg without his fur,so he had been told by the Doctor.

The bus went off and soon they reached Naughty Hall with it’s lovely Cedar Tree and its rose gardens.They got off the bus and walked to Pewter Road where Sally was waiting for Mary.She did not know that Mary had this errant cat hiding in her bag

But she soon will

Mary rang the bell on the front door of Suffolk House.

Come in the receptionist cried.

I have come to visit Sally, Mary told her Is she still in Room 13?

No we call it 12a now because 13 is unlucky

For whom?

Well someone broke a tooth eating nuts in there.

That’s not bad luck.Its stupid to bite hard nuts when you are old.At least it was not some old people having heart attacks while making love That would have made the News.

In the Guardian last week  it said that old people could still enjoy sex They advise playing with toys.

Well they could still have heart attacks using toys

Can’t tell you as I have never seen a sex toy nor used one.

We will ask Matron then

Do you think she uses them?

God knows but it is not part of the job description.

Not yet

And so cry all of us.

Sally was happy to see Mary

What a pretty dress she whispered

Thank you said Mary.

Oh, lord your handbag is shaking.Is there a bomb in it?

Who would bomb a Care Home?

A crazy old woman!

That would be stupid.

Oh dear, it’s moving .Oh, God.

The women froze.

The two women stared at the bag.

And so have all of us.

Then they heard a loud Miaow.

It’s a cat.A large one.

Now Emile what are you doing?

Can’t breathe.Let me out, mother.Quick.

Are you the cat’s mother, asked Sally?

Not literally, Mary confessed.

She let Emile out and it was a lovely treat for Sally.She had not touched an animal since her husband died 6 years ago.

She usually preferred dogs but Emile was such fun

And so are all of us .

Then Mary decided to go home with her cat but he had to walk to the bus stop because she wasn’t going to carry them in her handbag

Sally I have to say goodbye now. I need to get home and someone is coming to see me tonight nk

So you are lucky sorry soon I wish someone was coming to see me but maybe my son John will be coming tomorrow

Mary walked along to the bus stop will her cat then she saw a car stopping.

It was her neighbour Michael.

What are you doing with your cat up here?

We have been to see Sally my friend in her care home and now we are going home home

I can take you said Michael

St. Mary and her cat got into the back of the car along was Mary’s handbag

Then NH NH in 10 minutes they were back in their own neighbourhood and Emile was especially delighted

I will never get inside Mary’s handbag ever again, he vowed even if Sally has never touched an animal for 7 or 8 years. It’s not my fault but they have no animals in the care home..

and at that very moment a very kind lady called Dora was scrubbing Sally’s room when they when they realised that a cat has been inside it

And so would all of us

Cut off from humankind in my dark well
Unimagined death had my love scorned
I lay grieving in a prison cell

How did I get here, am I in hell?
My soul was leaving from my body warm
Cut off from humankind in my dark well

Shall I too fall where my lover fell?
I felt such pain,I was a skinless worm
A person grieving in a prison cell

I did not wish in this black place to dwell
I felt a force that pulled till my heart tore
Cut off from humankind in my dark well

In despair I had no thoughts at all
Until a golden light around me formed
To hold this person grieving in her cell

In gratitude great tears ran as I learned
Love had followed me when I was harmed
Cut off from humankind in my dark well
The ladder of his thorns broke my death spell

Shimmering light
The lily pond
The music of your eye
The touch of your arm
Your always honey smell.
I love.

Rustling trees in a row,
A wide green lawn;
People stoop to see small flowers.

A snail on the path.
The perfection of the shell.
I believe

Unusually tall dandelions
at the edge of this wood
Wave in the warm west wind.
We smile.

Sitting pen in hand
I wonder what I would have written
In all the letters I’ve not sent you.

Far away on the Ridgeway,
Cars, like ants,
Rush towards the motorway.
They make us laugh.
How green the meadows
How fresh the old trees.

I gaze at you.
I find I am.
It’s mutual.
They call it Love

https://www.androidpolice.com/best-drawing-apps-for-android/

D

Sketchbook

Originally developed by Autodesk, Sketchbook has become a popular choice for many. It has a clean, uncluttered, and easy-to-navigate interface. If this is your preferred app on your computer, you’ll be right at home using it on your mobile device.

Pros:,Free

https://unherd.com/2023/01/netanyahu-is-sacrificing-israels-myths/#cxrecs_s

https://unherd.com/2022/12/jk-rowling-works-her-magic-again/#cxrecs_s

Many of the longest-lived cultures with very low rates of dementia are getting close to nine or nine and a half hours of sleep a night, which sounds ridiculous for most of us. But we do have to stop thinking of sleep as a waste of time. Now I track my sleep with my watch and I’m very diligent about it. I get at least seven hours a night.

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/023c9f1e-8837-11ed-bb21-8f4d97ec7b02?shareToken=232dd70c8a87da27613e5e443c88a20f

I’ve been so very lonely in this place

I cannot understand the death of God

Are we meant to do with out his grace.

On his dying face our feet have trod

Abandoned in the darkness I fell down

I could not rise again till I had died

In The waters of my tears I drowned

I wanted only truth, they’ told me lies

Where is my map my compass my sure guide?

My guardian angel was a myth of note.

He stood behind my shoulder, by my side.

He was no man despite his shining coat

Feel inside, your instinct knows the clues.

No one else can walk on in your shoes

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/aug/11/viv-albertine-deborah-levy-rachel-cusk-divorce-menopause-midlife?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

“It has been an old comparison for our urging on – the Beehive; however, it seems to me that we should rather be the flower than the Bee – for it is a false notion that more is gained by receiving more than giving – no, the receiver and the giver are equal in their benefits. The flower, I doubt not, receives a fair guerdon from the Bee – its leaves blush deeper in the next spring – and who shall say between man and woman which is the most delighted”

I wish I were on Hutton Roof again
The limestone and the little open flowers
The sea at Arnside like a distant gem
The spaciousness, like days with far more hours

I wish I were as agile now as then
I’d climb the mountains, hills,the little lanes

Windermere below still winding on
The handsome Lake,the old man, Coniston

I wish I were in Dent, the curious shapes
The hills and their deep mystery engross
The height, the little river, the mistakes
The lost loved man alive, to hold me closeI

I yearn to be on Hutton Roof today
The holy smell of grass, the feel of air

https://cpj.ca/defiance-not-compliance-turning-the-other-cheek/

https://www.cpj.ca/defiance-not-compliance-turning-other-cheek

“Wink goes on to examine the phrase “if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.” Why, Wink asks, does Jesus reference the right cheek specifically? The answer is both challenging and enlightening. Jesus lived in a right-handed world where left hands were reserved only for unclean tasks. Therefore, we can see assume that the person doing the hitting would have used their right hand. The only way to strike someone on the right cheek with your right hand is a backhanded slap. Such a blow connotes an insult, not a fistfight, and was a normal way to reprimand someone over whom you had power (e.g. masters to slaves, husbands to wives, Romans to Jews). To strike your equal in such a manner was socially and legally unacceptable, carrying with it a huge fine.

With this new understanding of the context Jesus was speaking in, picture the scenario with yourself as the oppressor. You are a wealthy, powerful person whose slave has displeased you in some way. You reprimand your slave with a backhanded slap. The response you expect is the response you have always received from your slaves – the response you yourself would give if someone higher than you treated you the same way. You expect your slave to cower, submit, and slink away. Instead, your slave defiantly turns their other cheek and challenges you to hit them again. What can you do?

You would like to give your slave another backhanded slap to show them their place, but to do that you would have to use your left hand which would admit that your action is unclean. You could hit them on their left cheek, instead, but it would be embarrassing to hit your slave the way you should hit your equal. You’re confused. You don’t know what to do. Flustered, you could order the slave be flogged, but the slave has already made their point. They have shown you that they are a human person with dignity and worth. You don’t own them, you cannot control them, and they do not submit to your rule.

And so, in light of Wink’s insights, Jesus’ instruction not to resist evil and to turn the other cheek transforms from an instruction to accept injustice into a challenge to resist systems of domination and oppression without the use of violence. Rather than ignoring an evil situation and hoping it will go away, Jesus is telling his followers to find creative, active, and nonviolent ways to assert their humanity and God’s love in the world.”

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/09/26/well/live/music-therapy-cancer.html

Ms. Caudill and I then went to a conference room to discuss music therapy with my husband, Don, and our friend Alexandra, who has engaged in music ministry. Music must be an especially effective form of therapy, Don supposed, because it directly expresses and creates emotions. Alexandra agreed. Singing in a choir for and with people impaired by dementia, she has witnessed elderly men and women who could not remember their own names recalling verbatim the words of beloved hymns.

“Music lights up neurons between the right and left hemispheres of the brain,” Ms. Caudill said. “It can also aid in neuroplasticity, helping the brain form new connections.” A stress reliever, music is used to recover speech, improve walking and assist in the retrieval of memories. Popular and classical melodies can be infinitely modified to meet various backgrounds and tastes.

[Read more about the use of music for mental health.]

Sometimes depressed patients are encouraged to compose new lyrics to a favorite song that can then convey their reactions to their condition. Ms. Caudill recorded a lymphoma patient singing her version of Shawn Mendes’s “In My Blood” and upon discharge gave her an MP3 of her new “anthem”: “Sometimes I feel I should give up, but I can’t. It isn’t in my blood.”