The best years of your life, are the ones in which you decide your problems are your own. You don’t blame them on your mother, your environment, the ecology or the government. Your realise: You control your own destiny.
Dr Albert Ellis
Taste is the enemy of creativeness.
Quick update on my progress with my book…
I was really lucky to be interviewed on BBC Radio Gloucestershire on Saturday 8th November. It was my first ever interview and it was LIVE, so I was extremely nervous. I have to say, however, that I faced my fears and conquered them! I ended up absolutely LOVING IT! If you wanted to have a little listen, you can do so by clicking this link below.
I was a little wobbly at first but soon settled into it! This was my pre-interview selfie!
Found this today, it was one of my very first posts, when I was new to blogging and I do not even remember writing it! :) Happy Thursday friends!
Originally posted on sarah colliver:
The steaming mug of coffee was reviving and bringing with it the hope that she could push through and stay awake long enough to make it to the end of the day. It had been a hard slog, starting at 5am with last minute packing and cleaning but she was almost there with only one more load of furniture to go. Once that last load was emptied she could breathe again and answer the call of her rumbly tummy. She allowed a tiny smile, casting her eyes over the ramshackle cottage that was now her home; though not wanting to jinx her current situation which afforded her a generous amount of luck for once. She began to reflect on the day when she had received that official looking letter; the day it had all begun- when her luck changed and with it the direction of her life.
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My brisk and chilly dog walk was a pleasure today. I say brisk, it cannot have been that brisk, as I took over 50 photographs, but I had intended it so. Like so many other times, today, I was captured by the magic of the Forest of Dean.
The sun threw shadows in my path and every direction which I turned offered a different colour. The leaves, which crunched satisfactorily beneath my feet, spread as far as I could see and the rustling of squirrels darting about, drove my dog to distraction.
I stumbled across a little moss clad stump, which had obviously been used as a little picnic area by squirrels and impressive fungi of some kind( I am no expert). These reminded me of when I used to tell my boys that the fairies lived beneath them. I still like to think they do, although sadly my boys have moved on from this.
All in all, my daily dog walk served to remind me to be thankful for my beautiful environment. The Forest of Dean truly is a magical place.
Fumbling around in the dark
Searching for which way to turn.
Where will I find what it is that I seek?
My empty stomach aches
And my hands shake.
I am lost.
I want to be found
To be scooped up
And offered reassurance.
But I don’t know where to begin
Or how to reach out.
Please, can someone turn the light on?
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Avete presente quegli scomodi abiti vittoriani? Quelli con la gonna che strascica un po' per terra, gonfiata sul di dietro dalla tournure? Quelli con i corsetti strettissimi e i colletti alti che solleticano il collo? Ecco. Io non vorrei indossare altro.
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