What do you call an Irish man with a tan? An import. 
hehehe Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Where is this lovely Summer we were supposed to have?
Well here is a nice sun in progress for you all to enjoy. 
The finished product.
A ray of sunshine.
In a a lot of ways back pain is like a migraine. It hurts to even think about doing something, to breath, to blink. Just the thought of moving hurts. I hate it. Why does it have to hurt so much. I wish I could just go to bed & wake up & be pain free. But that’s not going to happen. Oh well, time to hobble off to get more things done.
What with everything I haven’t had time to do too much design lately. But since I found the wonderful Feanor Craft Shop in Bohermore I’ve decided it’s time I tried to get back into it.
Here is what I’m starting with:
Celtic Hanging Boxes.
Celtic Hanging Boxes.
I’ll keep this updated. I’m hoping to solder the designs onto the wood, but I’m going to have to test the soldering iron on a different piece of wood first though. I’ve never soldered onto wood before & I haven’t used a soldering iron since I was younger then Nic.
Ready for soldering.
Ready for Soldering.
The Soldering Has Started.
The Soldering has started.
Not a baby any more.
I’ve found the last week very hard. Nic is growing up now & she’s wanting to spend more time with her friends, going into town, going swimming & stuff like that. I know this is a great thing. I’m delighted she has friends I can trust to let her out with. I loosened the reigns a little & now I feel I’ve loosened them too much & she’s running away from me. I see her running so far ahead of me. She doesn’t want to spend time with mum any more.
I guess this is what my own mother went through when I decided to grow up & spread my wings, but the difference with me was I soared so high I was like Icarus, I burned my wings on the Sun & came crashing down to Earth with a bang.
I know Nic isn’t going to do this, but I’m still not ready to let her go. I miss her so much already. I just want to have her here with me, to hold her & never let her go. I don’t want her go grow up & go out into this big bad World. There are so many horrible things out there. Things I don’t want her to have to deal with. Things I want to shelter her from. I don’t want her to live the life I did. I don’t want her to get hurt the way I did. I don’t want someone to take her childhood the way mine was taken. When she’s out there & I’m not there to stop bad people hurting her.
I miss her so much. I miss my baby.
To the horrible grey sky coloured ‘06 Land Cruiser & the filthy dirty black ‘07 VW Van who decided this morning they wanted to try & make a sandwich out of me at the Browne roundabout this morning, learn how to use a bloody roundabout. It’s very simple. I promise you it’s not rocket science. The only difficult part for most people is they have to move their stubby little fingers to put on those horrible things called INDICATORS!
For those of you who don’t actually know how to use a roundabout here, this is a page out of a very handy book you might actually like to look into buying, it’s full of little things called “The Rules of the Road!” They’re only little things, but they come in quite handy at times. Can’t understand why.
How to use roundabouts.
I'm not an Angel, I'M A CHILD!!!
Ok, I get that the older generation is different to ours, I really do, but I don’t see how some of them feel that gives them the right to be just plain mean & nasty.
I know Nicola is not an Angel, but she’s not a horrible child either. I could show you a kid here a year older then Nicola who was falling around drunk a few days ago, 13 years of age!! I could show you a bunch of kids half Nics age who know more curse words then I do, & that’s saying something. Nicola plays. Oh my God, that’s a hangable offence to some people. Kids need to be allowed to be kids. They can’t just be kids when you want them to be, it doesn’t work like that.
Ok, I could go on, but rant over.
Feeling Tired.
I’ve still been feeling a bit tired of late. I think I need to catch up on a little bit more sleep.
I'm a bit more anchored.
But in saying that I’m a bit more anchored(it is there, just look closely ) then I have been of late.
A little reflective.
I’m still a little bit reflective on everything that is still going on in my life. So much has, & still is changing.
What drives me?
Sometimes I still wonder who is at the helm? Am I still sailing this ship of life alone?
A second driving force.
But then I look to my side & see that there is a second wheel there for my friends & family to help me drive when I feel like I am unable to go on.
They're stars who I have faith in.
They are all bright, shining stars & I have full faith in them.
Always keep the flag flying high.
I will always try to keep the flag flying high no matter how bad I feel. I will always try to let people know that I’m here & I’m not going anywhere any time soon. & I thank them for everything they have done for me. Without them I’d be nothing.
In the 19th Century if you went to a doctor complaining of the symptoms of what we now call a migraine the cure was simple, drill a hole in your head to release the evil spirit trapped inside. Instantly you felt relief. The pressure on your brain was lessened & as a result the pain gone.
At the moment I think it sounds like a great idea. Anyone know where I can get a 19th Century doctor?
Migraine is such a horrible thing to suffer from. Isn’t that strange, when I write about my depression I write that I “live” with depression, but when it comes to migraine I use the word “suffer”.
I’m trying to think of how I can describe how a migraine feels for those of you who have never had one & I think this comes a little bit close to it:
This is how a migraine feels.
