Tiggerific

I dread coming home these days as it is increasingly like An American Werewolf in London with Kira looking a little bit worse and more raw each day. Actually if looks like no NEW wounds today - but the same old ones still nasty. She hasn't had the scabs of the new ones yet .... give her time!

I forgot to upload this page a week or so ago - completed for another of the Pencil Line sketches. I have yet to scrap many of my big cat photos on real paper as life has been a tad bad recently, but I will do. This is a digi page using some of the pictures of Indy.

I have braved the slow cooker again today - to no avail I fear. I prepared the meal last night and then 'assembled' it this morning. Beef (I rarely eat beef) potatoes, carrots, mushrooms and onions in an ale sauce. Mmmmmm. Sounded delicious and it smells fab. It has been on low since 7 am so going for a good 10 hours or more. The potato is still rock hard! I cut it into tiny pieces as well. Heaven knows what I am doing wrong now. I have turned it up to high to see if they might decide to soften a little. Poor Nij - looks like another disaster to set before him!

quick update - Kira is worse. More itchy than ever. Bleeding a lot. New wounds. Dinner went in the bin without either of us trying it and I am seriously at the end of my tether. Even Nigel, placid, balanced old Nigel is depressed, angry, upset and totally fed up.

Linda sent me a beautiful e mail. I have seen it before but it is such a lovely one it is soemthing I want to share here. I know many of you will have seen it before, but even if you have, another read reminds us all of some valuable messages. So many people I know are struggling with hard times - I hope this comforts us all.

It will take just 37 seconds to read this and change your thinking.

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room.

One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs.
His bed was next to the room's only window.

The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end.

They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.


Every afternoon,  when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.


The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.
Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.


As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by.


Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.


Days, weeks and months passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep.

She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.


Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.

He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.

It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.


The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.

She said, 'Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.'



Epilogue:

There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations.

Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.


If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.


'Today is a gift, that is why it is called   The Present.'

Comments

[Sharon]

Thank you so much for sharing that beautiful email. It made me stop and think.
xxx

[Julia Budd]

the slow cooker thing - sorry it's such a trauma, I'm loving mine after some falses starts. Root veggies take longer than meat - so put them in UNDER the meat where the bowl sits in the element...makes a huge difference, and I always add brought to the boil half quantity if liquid is stated in the recipe....that might help...you don't need any more stresses - thinking of you both.

[Sally]

Karen, lovely e mail, thanks forsharing it with us. Although I haven't left comments for ages I've been reading your blog and have been thinking of you and Nigel. With all my heart, I hope things improve soon.

[Heather]

Thinking of you all at this difficult time and thanks for sharing that email, brought tears to my eyes it did. Know people care for you today and every day xx

[Lynda]

Beautiful email- thanks for sharing it.
Love to Kira -hope she improves soon.

[Alix]

Hi Karen,

I have seen this before, but it is such a lovely story, and really does give hope and strength to us all. I often feel that there is little I can give back to the world {due to my illness} but my Mum once told me that she thought of me like Beth, the poorly child in *Little Women*...the gift she gave to her family, was always being right where they left her!! i.e. she was always available for them. I like to think we all have something to give.

Apologies for the essay!!
xxx

[Rosie]

That was such a lovely email. I cried...I understand that completely. Thanks for sharing :)
Hugs, Rosie