Crackerjack



 It’s Wednesday already…..bloody hell.
It’s dawn and the seagulls are already screaming over west shore,
We’ve seen a couple of foxes playing in the car park on CCTV.

It started off busy but now remains peaceful.
I’ve read and made notes from my counselling reading list since 4 am
I am wearing a extra small pair of reading glasses which were bought by mistake.
According to my colleague I look like Peter Glaze  from the 1960s children’s programme Crackerjack
Him or a school yard pervert she noted wryly .


I’ve joined a gay reading group based in Chester and have just heard details of my first group meeting.
Apparently a selection biscuits will be provided.




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Accidents

 WRITING TO FOLLOW



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Simplicity

 

Professionally I seem to be liaising more and more with companies that provide cheap, simple cremations. 
Slick, and for the most part professional, they certainly seem to have taken advantage of a gap in the market where minor celebrities like Debbie McGee reinforce that you can have a funeral for the cost e of a cup of coffee a week whilst earning a voucher for Marks and Spencer’s all at the same time.
In this time of austerity, spending thousands on a funeral is no longer a luxury many can now afford but I have concerns that these “ faceless” companies could be having a detrimental effect of how we grieve rather who we grieve for.
Getting a funeral right, is a difficult objective for any family as grief can often be fickle, laced with anger and intensely personal in nature. 
The more modern trend for a well chosen eulogies, music , green burials, are complications from the formal “norms ” but at least personal touches often give loved ones the time and space to grieve. 
Funerals are only really important to the living.
Cheap cremations will work for some and not others.

I’m just concerned that financial prudence is taking over from the healthy need to be able to say a proper goodbye to a loved one 


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Island time

 What did vacation teach me?

I’m being taught that waiting is a worthwhile pursuit. I’m learning that people want to connect. They want to help you. They will see your heart. They want to love you. Let them. I’m learning that I’m more than capable. My heart loved Nantucket, my soul was Martha, my mind a Hyannis. What troubled my heart at the time becomes the memory I most treasure. I miss riding the ferry everyday. It gave my mind and body two hours of forced rest just watching the ocean. I’m still pinching myself. God is good even when I am not. Nature is the only salve that always reminds me of where I stand. 



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Waves

 The waves 

Lull me 

Into a slumber

Until waves

Lash the

Jetty rocks


Woods Hole

The ferry 

Trying to hold

It’s own

As this human

Begged for 

Ginger ale



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