That Bitch Big M!

Posted on April 16, 2018 by Gloria

I don’t suffer from anxiety because I can control my anxiety. If I didn’t know how to manage it and control it, then I would say that I do suffer from anxiety.

Anxiety causes me to get palpitations and palpitations make me anxious! Damn things! If I drink more than two or three glasses of wine, I’ll have palpitations the next day. When Glo is the dominant personality here, the limit of two glasses is strictly adhered to!

Last Sunday I was out for dinner with Stephano and Little Miss Six, and I consumed three glasses of white wine. I was fine; we were home about 8pm and in bed before 11. Oh yes…..I did have a gin and tonic too! The next morning my chest felt really heavy and I was wrecked! Shallow breathing and palpitations. I ignored it for a while and by lunchtime, I lay down for a wee meditation.

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Slippery Showers in Slow Motion!

Posted on March 23, 2018 by Gloria

One thing that always cheers me up is my besties and because they’re not within reach at the moment I have no choice but to have a little wander down memory lane. This is one memory that I’ll never forget and always makes me laugh!

This one time in Scout camp, Esmeralda and I decided that our baby wipe showers were only truly effective for a day or two. It was now day four and we had to brave the communal showers. Yes, communal! Now that might be no big deal for some people but I’ve never ever had to share my shower with anybody. My mother threw us all into the same bath when we were very young, but that’s different.

After several cups of coffee and faffing around for a couple of hours, we gathered ourselves and started walking. We ploughed through the gutters in our wellies and matching anoraks with our toiletries and ~~fluffy~~ towels in 2 Lidl bags.

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Colder Than Ice

Posted on February 19, 2018 by Gloria

Today I’m taking part in February 15 Flash Fiction Challenge for Charli over at Carrot Ranch. The prompt is; In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story on ice.

Romantic notions in a young maidens head,

Seeking out her kindred spirit, gullible and blithe.

She watched the man across the room, eyes met,

Her’s green like precious emeralds, his were icy blue.

So began his obsession, his something new,

A faithful damsel to fuel his insolence.

He stole her soul and beat it down,

She became a prisoner in his petulant world.

Two thousand days of torment and suffering

In the heavy hands of a furious man.

Void of compassion, frost in his veins,

His heart was colder than ice.

Freedom for the maiden came with a price!

I Found My Writers

Posted on February 11, 2018 by Gloria

Yes, it’s quite a solitary thing. Writing. No-one to bounce ideas off except yourself. It’s hard work trying to discuss your WIP with someone who has absolutely no interest in what you’re talking about. They pretend they’re listening but the glazed faraway look gives the game away.

This is the main reason why I want to join a writer’s group. To talk about words with people who are interested and to get feedback on my writing. I know of a group that meets just a five-minute walk from where I live but not at a time or day that suits me. Well, I’ve finally found a group that meets on an evening that I’m free. At long last!

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