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Sunday 15th March 2015.

This morning i have woken up...to Mothering Sunday...i am not sure that i want to dwell on such a fact on this particular day for any great time in the written word...i do know i will on the thought front, as bits and bobs from the past fifty-nine years, will, as if i was walking through a wheat field on a typical English summers day, perhaps they will drift across the hours, i wish as i reach out to each ear of corn feel the stubby prickle look into the searing sunshine....and hear that old hand me down saying you only have, or get, or pull from a lucky bag one mother...i will look at the telephone in the hall...and perhaps still look at it when i go to greet the Goblins that hide under my pillow each night....thank fully there is always Winnie The Poo standing on the bridge throwing Poo Sticks into the river of life....So Goeth for now....

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bichoose
bichoose

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