It's been one of those night when it's hard to tell dreams from reality.  You half-wake & wonder 'Did that really happen?' then go back to sleep again before a decision is made.  The kind of dreams that have waking effects that it's hard to shake off - still, it's not yet seven a.m & I haven't even drunk my first coffee yet.  I trust the caffeine will do the trick.  I have one of my Pooh mugs full - Piglet,  actually - & they are as big as two large cups, easily.

The entry I made yesterday seems to have disappeared - perhaps it's as well; it was mostly about mice and medieval recipes which contained them.  It began with my stating that Flora, my cat, preferred asparagus to mice then receiving a comment from Kevin to say that this was asparagus undoubtedly tasted better - a comment I could not quarrel with.  But I  felt sure I'd seen mouse-recipes, dated 1200 or there abouts. . . but try as I might, they elude me.  I shall browse the 'Net again. . . but is this a normal way for a mature woman to spend her time?

It  goes to show just how ignorant one can be; I thought Fortalice was two words, the whole association  started by a woman called Alice, possibly she herself a victim of violence.  But it seems it is one word from the latin, meaning a small fort.  Well, whatever it, is my grandaughter and her girls are safe there, & my own daughter feels better knowing they are all protected.  So I feel better too.
A brighter note and an addition to my cat theory: Flora hates fish but loves asparagus.  How did she develop a taste for asparagus?  Don't ask.

I have evolved a whole new theory about cats - they are not the gentle, soothing creatures we are taught to believe they are, but furry tyrants. Mine sits by my side at the moment. The first quote, by the way, in case you don't know, is by Douglas Adams.
I was grounded for a time by a faulty gall bladder, which was no fun but my own fault. It has been wonky for years but has behaved since '97 so I shouldn't grumble. But I do.
My grandaughter has split from her violent husband after 12 years of beatings. For Alice are sheltering her in their commune, along with the two girls, Charlotte & Olivia. All three love it. It has a high-walled garden with tame squirrels and brilliant staff. Little wonder that my daughter, Jenny has a recurring upset tummy and my gall bladder joined in the fun. But things seem calmer now.
The Douglas Adam quote was refused for reason I didn't understand. It was at the beginnng of this entry & read:
“The Answer to the Great Question Of.....Life, the Universe and Everything.....(is) Forty-two.”
I am very pleased to know this

The best advice I can give any of you, should you - heaven forbid - have a bleed in the brain, is, Do Not Get A Cat.  That is the hint.  Cats are not the self-reliant, aloof creatures they are portrayed as being. 
The question is this:  why, no matter how you place an item in a microwave, it it has a handle the microwave will stop with the handle facing towards the back of the oven.  Perhaps it's a law of nature, like the phone always ringing when you're in the bathroom, even if it's been silent all day.

http://www.relieve-migraine-headache.com/migraine-and-aura.htm
The bleed left me, along with a damaged sense of balance, with Silent Migraines.  My friend Janet, a migraine sufferer, told me about them.  Until she put me wise I thought the golden flashing lights were the precursor of another bleed; I always associated migraines with bad headaches.  Not so - one can have them without the headache but with all the other symptoms. Well,I am thankful not to have the headache, but this latest bout was the worst ever - lights as bright as a fireworks display & a feeling of malaise that is only just wearing off. 
On the bright side, I did find the best website I've ever read when once I was able to look at the computer screen.  I realise that I'm far from being the only migraine sufferer who blogs, but I put the web address at the top of this entry for anyone who's interested.
I think this latest bout was brought on by the combination of the stress of my granddaughhter's divorce from a violent man - it has, of course, affected the whole family, but we think that the end is in sight.

Well, it seems that no one but me uses a fancy font; but I admit to my addiction.  When I was quite small my grandfather & my father set up a small press in our front room and that's were my love started.

My friend informs me that he has read in a learned journal that the brain can't distinguish between imagination and reality.  I already knew this -this is why the maxim ‘Where the mind leads, the body will follow’ works so well – at least I keep repeating it to myself in an attempt to fool my body into thinking that I am as stable, physically, as I ever was.   How stable I was mentally is open to question.   A teacher once told me that I would get nowhere in this life because I was butterfly –minded; she said nothing of the life to come.  Perhaps she didn’t feel qualified to speak of the next one.  But who is?
I write ths entry on the desk computer, which is situated in the front room of my house.  It's cold, having no heating in it at the moment.  I much prefer my laptop, which is in the back room & where I can write, email and make entries in this blog while curled  warmly on the sofa.

Typical British Bank Holiday weather - chilly, windy.  The street is quiet, even  the ice cream vans have given up; both played their respective tunes at double-quick time - The Bells of St. Mary's & Girls & Boys Come Out To Play, and then left the village.  The Bells of St. Mary's played at high speed souinds really odd

A friend whom I've never met & who lives in America asked me for a description of my family.  Having just bought a digital camera to replace my old Pentax, & having yet to learn how to use it & put my photos online, I began by trying to paint word pictures of each one.  It didn't work of course.  How verbose can one get?  Here is what I finally sent:
 
They are wonderful, exasperating,  hard-working, amusing, worrying,  witty, wayward, empathetic, &  unfeeling, generous, self-centred & wonderful.

My family consists of one daughter, Jenny, her husband Ray, Gillian, Lewis, Charlotte & Olivia -the last four all grandchildren.

A blog is meant to be fun but I still find it totally
confusing.  Perhaps more brain cell were damaged by the bleed than I first thought - I manage to shower & feed myself{ & the cat} & yesterday I hung out washing on a line; something I haven't done since I left hospital.  It confused the birds but delighted me.
But, how to upgrade?  How to send comments?  Sometimes I can & sometimes I can't.

The early morning sun shines on my neighbour's window and dazzles me through my opened kitchen door.  I feel I could write a witty haiku about second-hand sunshine.

I was going to do such a lot yesterday. I made a list in my head; by far the best place to make one; no one finds it & cries 'Aha! ' in derisive tones,' So you were to have listened to at least some of your 'Teach Yourself Exel' caught up on your neglected Italian lessons,  begun the sweater you bought the wool for. . .'etc.
The commom sense part of my brain, or what's left of it after I killed I don't know how many cells by bleeding on them {well, no one told me that this wasn't a good idea} tells me that there are two choices open to me - either fulfil the list or shut up about it.  I'll decide later. . .