Saturday, 11 June 2016

In which I should grovel, maybe..

I'm not good at grovelling, which is a bit of a surprise given that I'm damn good at apologising. Just ask any of the numerous inanimate objects that I've banged up against and muttered, "I'm so sorry!" before realising what an idiot I am.

Grovelling, however, is a skill (?) that I'm not blessed with. Heck, I don't even know how to! Do I go down on my knees, lick the dirt from beneath your feet while begging,    
   "My dear blog readers, please don't leave me because I've not done anything for ages. Please?"
No, I don't think that's my style, nor do I believe my lovely, intelligent, kind hearted, gorgeous [is that enough flattering or would you like more?] readers would like me to do it. I hope.

Nah, I'll stick with telling you the facts and hope you'll understand.

Since Imbolc I've had a right crappy time, health wise. The lengthy periods of wet, chilly weather didn't help as Arthur Itis, who now seems to have moved in lock, stock, and painful barrel, really came out to play. He loves such weather! In full force, he played havoc with every joint in my body. That, in turn, led Madam Fibromyalgia to flare up and together they did their damnedest to kill me off. Add to this mix something going wrong with my digestive system, having to go for Xrays and tests, pokes and prods, well I really did think the whole lot of things were determined on the murder of their host!
OK, OK slight exaggeration there but it really did feel like they were trying.

It's only three weeks ago that I began feeling that my brain had returned.  Gratefully, soon after my body came back to Earth, enticed by the Sun exposing himself. Luckily, I felt no need to shout, "you dirty old man!" at him, so he's continued to expose himself daily. Apart from the odd time he was shoved aside by a certain gang of clouds needing to pee. Mind you, even that was welcome this week, as our water butt was getting very low.

So, dear followers* readers, now you might understand my absence. I'm raring to go, loads of ideas and little bits of things to tell you. Please accept my rose and do stay.

*on the word followers, while some people might like the idea of being followed, it always makes me think of my school church upbringing (yes, even witches go to school) and how the vicar used to go on about the followers of Christ. I'll stick to readers if you don't mind. :-)

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