Ocular Prosthesis

... And knitted knockers ...

... The fun in the fact of such loss ... in the environment of false eyes, still peering out of my late Dads drawers ... A history in the style of these eyes. since the late 60s on the dispersing of his belongings ... 

And the comfort now lacking with the new design of breast prosthesis. And how a lovely charity sends out handcrafted ones with love to recipients in need of comfort in the missing part... for a Mum on her latest venture in discovering a solution, to the unnecessary discomfort that happens long after the treatment ... 

This like lots, a life of living with others beyond in adapting to accidents and disease ... thrust in our wake ... the facts behind the figures ... 

Mysterious in time

... The parallels in the moods. The making the most, the brood as others put it. Only others know that time. I share widowhood moments with my mum. Other fellow widows know, of what others presume to know. The other plane of rot. Another plane of clutter. Another plane of lost items. Another plane of a muddled life. Another plane of daily functions to schedule. The complex workings of a life altered ... 

Mysterious in time

... The parallels in the moods. The making the most, the brood as others put it. Only others know that time. I share widowhood moments with my mum. Other fellow widows know of what others presume to know. The other plane of rot. Another plane of clutter. Another plane of lost items. Another plane of a muddled life. Another plane of daily functions to schedule. The complex workings of a life altered ... 

It is the daylight hours

I decide to watch a movie ... I selected one based on a true story ... I am not scared easily ... this particular film really freaked me out ... It was so atmospheric I literally was peeking from behind my hands ... And it will make me look under the bed myself ... tonight ... 

The mood I am in now though  ... It will be who scares who .... ? 

Time in tandem

now, then and when ... Coves, cinemas and complaints in counties and boroughs piecing together time lost and paper in mountains of repetitiveness ...  with time for loves too ...