Nerines, also known as spider lilies. These are outside the conservatory. In Japan whole fields of these flower in the autumn, they are like a weed.

No news of my cat. It is very unsettling. I don't know, may never know, what happened to him. Meanwhile war rages in the Middle East, people have died, should I mourn my cat? It feels inconsequential on a world scale, but I knew Thomas so the loss feels personal. People say "He was only a cat" but he was my cat and I love him. I feel like I'm going just a bit crazy at the moment. I'll be glad to be dead, I've had enough of this world and its grief. Asked my Dad to come and get me, but I doubt he hears me. The usual comforts don't seem to be working now - the garden. chocolate cake - all in vain. Sigh.

 

 Back to lynwaho again. I have neglected you, but I need a place to vent and write. Yes, I am drunk at the moment, but sometimes drunkenness brings truth. "In vino veritas", or so they say.

 I have lost my beautiful cat. Thomas went outside on Thursday night and has not returned. He was my soul cat, the cat I would have married if he had been a human. I hate missing him; I hate that he has gone and that I don't know what happened to him. He kept me company when I went through chemo; sleeping quietly with me while I dozed with exhaustion. Such a sweet, sweet boy, and now he is gone. It brings so many thoughts, how I wish I could escape them. Life is full of pain. Its joy is fleeting but the pain remains.

Winter ahead. 

We are about a sixth of the way through the winter here in New Zealand. Honestly, I've pretty much forgotten what it was like to be warm. The only time I am really toasty is when I'm in the bath or in bed.

Because I haven't used this space for a couple of years, I am having to re-familiarize myself with how things work. How do I add to my booklist? How do I add images? It hasn't changed very much, but I have forgotten heaps.

I'm glad Facebook banned me. I wasted so much time online, it now feels like I have a life again. More time, less anxiety. I hate the way posts and news are slanted towards making us anxious, even if there is no real worry. Apparently, our sun is going to burn out in 13 billion years. Well, I'm not going to worry about it, and neither should anyone. Why some content writer thinks we should know this is beyond me. Useless knowledge - what am I supposed to do with this information?

And some of the groups on Facebook (what would Facebook be in Latin? Bibliovisago?) become boring after a while. I followed a group called Epic Retirement, wanting to hear about other people's experiences. It was OK at first, then degenerated into people's holiday pics ("Here we are in sunny Marbella!" "We have just bought our fourth house in the South of France" etc. ) and scammers trying to get you to invest your retirement package with them. Nah.

Watched a doco on Netflix last night called Trainwreck; Woodstock 1999. Some of the original planners of the original Woodstock tried to re-create the vibe. Sadly for them the zeitgeist has changed and they didn't see it. Peace and love are no longer cool it seems, and the whole thing ended in chaos. Worth watching.

Summer days, now gone: Millie under the washing.

Two things learned today.

I can multitask. Listen to BTS, read the Oldie and dance in my chair.

I have to write. The sods at Facebook have thrown me out (too many naughty opinions) so now I have to find some other way of expressing myself.

 So. I haven't got very far with the resurrection of my blog. I'm afraid this is going to be a lot of nonsense.

 Reading this book at the moment "Bess of Hardwick" by Mary S. Lovell. Bess was a wealthy woman  through her four marriages, but also by her own good management of her lands and properties. She was widely believed to be the second richest woman in England after Queen Elizabeth I. Bess was always involved in improving and building her homes, and is best known for Hardwick Hall, her own design. Lord Burghley quipped that Hardwick was "more glass than wall" for its large windows which set a new fashion for the times. 

     Her fourth husband, the Earl of Shrewsbury, was appointed custodian of Mary Queen of Scots, a position that had great status but nearly bankrupted him, as he was expected to pay most of Mary's expenses, including the upkeep of her servants and horses. His pleas to the Queen (notorious for her close-fistedness) for more money only led to the Queen suggesting that Mary's number of servants be reduced by half. At first, Mary was quartered in the same house as Bess and the Earl, and Mary and Bess became friends. However, they later fell out as Bess believed Mary was playing the couple off against each other for her own gain. As he aged, the Earl became increasingly mentally unstable, probably with dementia, and he believed that his wife was plotting against him to steal his property. He was removed as custodian for the Queen of Scots as he was unreliable, and her care passed to others. 

     Bess continued to buy and improve her properties; she was like a very good CEO and never hesitated to go to law against any who gainsaid her, in particular her stepson Gilbert who believed he was entitled to receive all her property when she died, because she had married his father. An interesting read which reveals much about the everyday life of Elizabethan times, and not about royalty which is refreshing. 

 Back again.

I've decided to reactivate this blog after 8 years!

I did think to make a new blog, but it's much more trouble as "They" want to verify me with a cellphone number. I don't have one. "They" are Google and they have bought blogger since I last posted. Many things have changed in the world in eight years, not all of them (in fact, very few of them) for the better.

One of the better things is that I'm now retired. I want to practice my writing again now I have more time, and it will be one way of getting me away from Facebook and boring my friends with my incessant posting of things I find interesting, or fun, or beautiful, or enraging. This is called "pebbling" because it's what penguins do to other birds that they like. Penguins offer each other pebbles for nest building, apparently. (They also steal pebbles as well.) So I'll think of myself as a penguin, walking along a pebbly beach, squawking with joy when I find a particularly nice pebble.

I hope I can remember how this works. Somewhere there is a grammar/spellchecker if only I can find it.

Anyway, here's a nice picture of Florence.