Sandra Fabiani … Warmth is a fire place in winter. Warmth is the love of your family and friends. Warmth is compassion end empathy. Warmth is a smile and kindness from strangers. Warmth is a hug when we are feeling bad. Warmth is kind words when you are doubting yourself. Monica Lewinsky … Soul connecting hugs … Ben Stiller … Fireplaces, hearths, wood. Everything I didn’t experience growing up […] Also puppies and Xmas music ...
Ubi enim est thesaurus tuus, ibi est et cor tuum. For where thy treasure is, there is thy heart also. You’ve stood by me through thick and thin. We’ve been through houses and hospitals and travails and travels around the world. We finish each other’s thoughts and sentences, (much to Poo’s chagrin,) I don’t know what I’d do without you. To quote a silly old country song, When my life is through, And the Angels ask me to recall The thrill of it all, then I will tell them I remember you … ...
“So it is: we are not given a short life but we make it short, and we are not Ill-supplied but wasteful of it.” […] All things that are still to come lie in uncertainty; live straightway!” ― Lucius Annæus Seneca, On the Shortness of Life Thank you, for sharing my journey with me! ...
I’ve, seen things, you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire, off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams, glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those, moments, will be lost, in time, like, tears, in rain. Time, to die. Blade Runner was the first movie I saw, that had a morally ambigous ‘hero’. And the villain is not bad? And he saves the hero? This was the first movie that made me look at the world in shades of grey, in shades of acceptance. ...
Click the pic for a larger one Love looks pretty on you. Makes you soft, tender, proud. Makes you sit up and take notice. Gives you a home to set down your things. What a blessing it is, to have music and dancing and poetry. What a gift it is, to look at someone and say, I’m so happy to have found you at last, at last, at long, long last you’re here. ...
Abby lost her grandmother this week. This is her eulogy to her. She was Aunty Matty to other people, mummy to her children and countless other fond names to who knew her. But she was my Nana. I have memories of her cradling me, and taking care of me as a baby. Vacations at Nana’s were the highlight of my childhood years. She was a tireless, hard working woman who raised her large family to the best of her abilities. And not just her family, but also (to me it seemed) the whole neighbourhood. She was loved and appreciated, just by about everyone whose life she touched. ...