Don’t Stop….

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In our lives we meet people who will end up being unforgettable for all the right reasons.

Not the ex’s or friends who betray and hurt us but the lovers and friends who stand by you through your tough times and try to help you find your peace again.

Each lover we have is not necessarily the one we will hold forever but to have someone in your life who you have loved and continue to love in a different sort of way is probably one of the most important things that we can have.   This love is more heartfelt and sincere than any other.

If we are really lucky we will meet friends who inspire us, make us smile in those wee quiet moments when we are alone and who make our life that little bit better by just being there and knowing they care.

Sometimes we never tell these people how much their friendship and love mean to us.  We are often embarrassed by it, scared of what other people will think, forgetting that the life we lead belongs to us, not to them.

So, to my special friends out there (if you are thinking “is this about me?” then it probably is!)

Don’t stop being who you are.   You mean more to me that I will ever tell you.

The saviour of your Vole..

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I am not a religious person.   Not at all.    I do not believe in the great “here after” or that someone above is looking out for me.

I do believe in the human “spirit” .. that little thing inside that makes us who we are.

Our “spirit” is made up from from lots of elements, some good, some bad, but whatever “mix” we have it makes us the person we are.  As individual and different as a snowflake.

I am not a perfect person, I am not always a good person.   I can be impatient, quick tempered, flippant, outspoken and I cannot disguise my dislike or like for someone or something.

I am proud of my imperfections because for all my bad points I know I have a flip side that is kind, caring (even if it is selective), funny, deep thinking and sensitive.  Although I do tend to show only parts of me to people who are not that close to me.

I value little things, peace, quiet, animals, a kind word, someone’s time to listen to me.   I place no value on expensive gifts and if I could survive without money I wouldn’t even need that.

I am an animal lover and like most pet lovers I love Brae, my dog and Bo, my cat.

Brae is the sweetest natured, friendliest wee thing that I can happily take anywhere without any worry.

Bo on the other hand is monster!

I live in a wee cottage in the country and unfortunately had a neighbour who was basically an old tramp, his house with filthy and he only ever washed his clothes about twice a year and they hung on the line for weeks! .. thankfully he is now long gone but during the time he lived next door I had a huge problem with mice.  They were actually very brave mice .. and once had one walk across my living  room floor right under the nose of Brae, who lay there and wagged her tail at it!

After numerous attempts to get rid of them I gave in the old fashioned method and bought myself a kitten, a lovely cuddly, cute wee thing (and in reality she still is!) BUT she has turned into this monster hunter.  Now, I know I shouldn’t complain, her whole reason for being here was to kill mice but I didn’t expect the problem with Vole’s.

Voles look very like mice, but they live outdoors and seemingly cat’s do not eat them because they taste bad to them.  So Bo catches them and brings them in the house!   I do not know how many I have had to catch and carry outside into the woodpile to release, often dressed in nothing more than a short nightshirt and slippers (me, not the Vole).   *I had to stop typing here to run outside to rescue yet another one that was squeaking in distress*

Over the past couple of weeks I must have had ten or so that I have picked up and carried outside.

When Vaner was living here, studying from home, Bo brought one in that caused chaos, phonecalls, screams .. the lot.  Thankfully I had another friend, Jackie,  pop by and rescue the Vole (and Vaner!).

Last week I had 3 friends pop in for a cuppa after we had been to the pictures to see Brave (ironic) .. when we walked into the living room Bo was happily hunting a Vole behind my log basket.   Fiona ran screaming into the kitchen, Sara sort of “lingered” by the front door and Kate and I attempted to catch the wee Vole.  Thankfully it ran inside my gardening crocs so Kate quickly squished the thing together to trap the Vole and I released it into the log pile.

Now ..either this log pile is now home to an army of Voles or the same bloody one keeps getting caught time and time again!

So when my time comes to leave this world I think that my epitaph should read:

“Here lies CJ Johnson, not a religious person, but saved many a Vole”

My cat will laugh.

The Butterfly Wing

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The Butterfly Wing

 I will always be grateful to the beautiful butterfly,

that rested on my shoulder today.

I felt the breeze from her wing, delicate and soft.

A beautiful soul giving peace to a troubled mind.

A moment of magic and I felt tears sting my eyes,

not for what I have lost but what I have gained.

The beginning of the end ….

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It was the knee that got me first .. right in the face.   I wasn’t expecting it, it caught me off guard.  I felt my lip burst, the pain shooting to the back of my brain, the unexpected blow shocking me.

I tasted the blood, I felt it trickle down my chin.

I felt the pull on my hair, was I going to be scalped?   Then the nails, digging into me, like burning needles.

My eyes squeezed shut in pain, all other senses disappearing.

“Sorry” she gasped .. “I’ve never come that hard before”

I knew she really wasn’t sorry.    The smile on her face belied her apology.

She was happy.

I was bleeding.

I grabbed the nearest thing to me, which happened to be her fake silk knickers and held them to my mouth to stop the blood from dripping on my clean sheets.

“what are you doing” she yelled “those are new”.

“um bleedin” I mumbled from behind the knickers “you kneed me in the fathe”

I could feel my lip swelling as I balanced on my knees.  All feeling of passion had gone, stopped in a split second.  I doubted I would ever be able to have sex again.

“Oh quit moaning” she said as she grabbed her knickers out of my hand.

“Look at these, they are ruined” staring at me with those cool blue eyes that I been fascinated by earlier that night, but the flick of a smile at the sides of her mouth confirmed my suspicion that I had already been forgiven.

“I thaid I wath thorry” I tried, but she was already on her feet, pulling on her jeans, getting ready to leave.

She smiled at me.  “It’s late, I have to be up early for work tomorrow, or I would stay”

I looked into those eyes again and my stomach flipped again “tho .. can I thee you again” I said in my most seductive (if strangely lisping voice).

“I suppose so” she said   “how about Tuesday?”

I grabbed my phone to check my diary, “yup Tuethday ith fine, where thall we meet”

A slow smile spread across her face “how about I just come round here again, you can make pizza and we can have sex again… but hold the pizza… oh!  and I hope your mouth is better by then”

I grinned as I rolled off the bed, probably not the best thing to do when your lip is split, but I grinned anyway.

“Tuethday it ith then”  I said, being as cool and coy as I could be with a bleeding lip, standing totally naked in front of a woman I had only met earlier that night.

Again she stared at me, whether it was out of attraction or pity I wasn’t sure …but she stared at me anyway.

She reached out and softly touched my neck “Sorry for the love bites, babe.. I couldn’t help myself”

I turned and looked in the mirror.

“Jeezuth, what have you done to me!!” as I stood and stared at my own naked reflection.

“I look like I have a therious thkin problem”

She laughed .. “you will be the envy of your friends after pulling me”

She was right, it was a small price to pay, my friends would be jealous, I could show my badges of a successful pulling night off with pride.  Even if I would have to wear a polo neck for the next week.

She was dressed now.  Ready to go.

She kissed me on the cheek and whispered “thank you” in my ear.

“until Tuesday then” she said with a half smile that melted me and scared me at the same time.

I was still standing there contemplating at the bruises and the split lip.   “ok” I said, “thee you then”

She turned when she reached the door.

“I’m Kay” she said  “Nice to meet you”

I smiled again “I’m CJ… Nithe to meet you too”

…and so it began.

We are all Olympians

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As the Olympics draw to a close after two weeks of great competition, sportsmanship and sheer joy for most of Britain at how our sportsmen and women have performed, we will take time tonight to celebrate their dedication, their struggle and their achievements.

It is a time for Britain to be proud.  After all the worry, the last minute disaster (G4S) and the seemingly unorganised and untried security and transport, it all came together .. and in the end the headlines have been all about the sports.  That is how is should be and thankfully has been.

From the volunteers, to the soldiers drafted in at the last minute, to the giants of sports and to the minnows of sports, who have shone, and succeeded we say thank you.

There is a lesson in life to be learned here.  We will never achieve if we do not try.   We may try and fail but the success has come from the very fact we tried and the real hero’s are not always the one’s left clutching the medals.

Life is a struggle at times, all of us at some point find ourselves struggling against the tide of life and what it brings us and takes from us.

Sometimes, even when it looks as if we are sailing we are like the proverbial duck, paddling frantically just to stay afloat.

The feeling of frustration and anger fill us as the stress builds and it becomes difficult to see any end to it and we become our own worst enemy, wanting to hide, wanting to run, wanting to live anyone else’s life but ours… but we just have to believe that someday the darkness will give way to light and our view on life and our feelings will change and come alive again.

Sometimes we just have to keep going, taking one step after another, just keeping moving forwards.

Yesterday I visited the National Gallery of Modern Art to visit an exhibition on the works of Edvard Munch, more famous for his work “The Scream”.   It was a very interesting visit for me as his life had been full of very dramatic moments that shaped his work and his mind.   The surprising thing for me was that I felt I understood him.  His work is dark, driven by the demons in his soul, but it made sense, it seemed that he was painting and printing from his emotion.   His prints are repeated beside each other, the same picture, but with different colours.    It was like looking straight into his mind, the dark pictures giving a whole different mood from the ones with colour.  It just made sense… it was HIS journey but one that I know so well.




I feel you

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I feel you ..

Today, without you, I feel you.

I keep busy to stop the thoughts of your touch, your tongue.

I keep busy to stop the wanting of touching you, tasting you.

 From the basement of my soul, They come to me,

 First gently, softly, then dark and powerful.

My control, your submission.

Your control, my submission.

 They come to me.

Over and over

Deeper and darker

 Your body, stretched before me

 Today, without you, I feel you

 I feel you…

The rock

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I am the  rock.

Facing the waves.

Gasping for air.

As they crash on me, around me.

They may pound me.

Reshape me.

Eventually wear me down to sand.

But they will never break me.

I will wait on the storm to pass.

Until the soft kiss of the tide

surrounds me once more.

Real love

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We all expect different things from love.

We all need to have all we expect.  What we expect is not necessarily what we get, not what we understand, not what we recognise from the movies, songs and the story books.

For me, love and life is about peace … finding peace on my own or finding someone who can give me peace, follow me when I am being strong and hold me up when I am weak.   It is not about the excitement of climbing a mountain but a gentle stroll through beautiful countryside, a slow discovery of small beautiful things.

Love is finding someone who understands the pressure of waiting on the waves to crash and who can quietly rescue you and keep you afloat when they do.

Someone who can laugh, who can cry, who can argue but who can listen and understand that sometimes the happiness is when I am peaceful, the sadness when I feel it slipping away and the anger born from frustration of a voice not being heard or understood.

To recognise love, do not use your ears, do not think of hugs and kisses or sex, do not think of the expensive presents, that is immature love.

Real love comes from quiet actions, from understanding, from seeing the little things, for the support given, for the quiet smiles, for the happily sharing of day to day boring tasks, for the touch in the wee small hours to acknowledge that you are there.

Real love is not about taking, about searching for excitement but about quietly giving and accepting in your own way.

That is love.

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