annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Roses
- I wrote a poem for Valentine's day, but this morning but pressed the wrong button and deleted the wrong bit about violets being trampled underfoot, and then went to 5 Rhythms and didn't notice till I came back. So here's the version that I accidentally posted and quite liked in the end: Roses are out of season in Feb
Violets are so tiny you can't see them
Everything is bullshit
But I don't care, I'm going dancing - I danced and danced and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried, but in a good way, sort of.
- Then to the beach with Shirley, to participate in the beach clean Valentine's initiative, #showyourbeachsomelove by shaping the litter picked up into a heart.
It was so windy, everything just blew away as soon as you let go of it, but I managed to make an almost heart shape out of this bin liner, with Shirley's help. I walked the wrong way - the wind was easterly, which it never is, it's always westerly, so you start walking into it, pushing against it while you have energy then letting it blow you home. I don't know how I didn't notice I had the wind behind me - it pushed me much too far for a person who'd danced all morning and it was a real struggle into the icy rain to get back to the car. My waterproof jacket kept the top of me dry but my trousers were soaked through to the skin. Shivery and cold, beyond invigorating. - Out for the evening with naughty P, my friend who lives in Spain and comes over to visit her son and new granddaughter. She's one of the Glasto grannies. I love her, as proven by the fact that I went back out in the pissing rain to see her, getting soaked through again, sitting in damp clothes in a pub all evening and was glad and would do it again tomorrow if she wasn't going back to Spain.
- I decided that as I'm going to be 64 this year, I shall get a tattoo at last. A cluster of stars, three for my children and a smaller one for GS. So I'm asking all you inked up motherfuckers, where does it hurt the least? Shoulder? Ankle? Where?
Today I am grateful for my body - what else is nearly 64 years old and still running so well? OK, the surface is not what it was - but what does anything else look like after six and a half decades of constant use, exposed to the elements? My legs get achy but still walk me around - 3.4 miles today as well as the dancing. It's a good old body that has done me proud and for that I am truly grateful. And my hair's still not grey, which pleases me also.
Night night xx
11:43 p.m. - 14.02.18
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