Dancing Lady....

...That's what my lovely Grandfather used to call them.

When I was a kid I would spend the school holidays at their place as my parents were working.

They didn't live in the most salubrious of neighbourhoods....... in fact many would call it the poor part of town. To us kids it was just fabulous and always full of adventure right down to the boogie man that lived in the old abandoned shop on the corner.

They had a back yard...basically a strip of concrete behind a huge grey wall...it was always grey and dark/dankish but on an old table just underneath the scullery window my grandfather would grow the most wonderful big pots of 'Dancing Ladies'...they would transform the grey into something else.

I have been thinking about him a lot today....my Grandfather .........especially as his son (my Dad) is so very ill. My Mum called the ambulance today but he refused to go and said he wanted to die in his own bed.
I am thinking that it wont be too long before my father joins his...but I have been wrong before ......when he has come good and his usual rambunctious self.

I cannot go up to be with them  (Ma and Pa) as I have this dreaded lurgy and really don't want to pass it on. Feeling a bit at a loss right now...however everything is so thought provoking...Life ....Death the Universe..you know how it goes.


“The rain to the wind said,
You push and I'll pelt.'
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged--though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.”
- Robert Frost