Tuesday, 12 July 2011


Morning, all

I am a new woman today - at least, I am on the way there.  I had surgery on my feet a couple of days ago, to correct bunions.  They break the bones and re-set them.  I have always had bunions, but they have only recently begun to hurt me.  Long and boring story - but basically, I had a painful corn that wouldn't shift and the chiropodist told me I really must get the bunions sorted.  SO I have.  And now it occurs to me that apart from the fact that I will be able to move more comfortably and so on, there will be an added bonus - I will have pretty feet.  Or at least, prettier than they were.  Although, of course, appearances don't matter at all...

Anyway, I have got a lot to write on the subject of my stay in hospital.  I was there for three days (two nights) and it was an interesting experience.  At least, I think so.  But I am going to leave that blog post for later today, or perhaps even tomorrow.  I have the luxury of time now (six weeks at home with my feet up as much as possible) but I need to figure out a way to keep my feet higher than my heart while still being able to use my laptop.  My feet are stinging now, and I am slightly dizzy, so it is just not the moment for getting absorbed in a long piece of writing, then finishing and finding that I am really not feeling very well. 

Cue another poem.  This is another one from my short collection, which is available on Amazon.  It is called Mudeford Quay and other selected poems, by Louise Gillett and it doesn't cost much (but you don't need to buy it, you will be able to read them all on here eventually.  I'm nice like that).

Anyway, funnily enough this one is called


Appearance is important
Said the snail unto the tree
It's true, I must admit
That you are prettier than me

A tree it is romantic
And a pleasure to purview
But all in all considered
I am luckier than you

Folks may come and picnic
In your soft and pleasant shade
You may shelter all these people
As you stand in your fine glade

But your trunk it is deep rooted
In the dark and dusty earth
And when I see dogs cock their legs
I can't contain my mirth.

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