Archive - December 2014

1
Bangers, bisco ‘n’ brawls
2
Our Red Sand Christmas
3
I’m gonna swing from a chandelier
4
I need to find my own strength

I’m gonna swing from a chandelier

Hello December! I love, love, love this month. It is my favourite…right after August. It means holiday, family reunion, loads of eating and giving, togetherness, joy and just another chance to be thankful for life…and the entire year while looking, hopefully, towards the new one around the corner. Just thinking about it makes me want to cling a little longer to that chandelier. Hope it would hold my weight. Hello December! I’m glad you’re finally here, and I know you’d be good to me, to us, to everyone!

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I need to find my own strength

It is the start of another new month. So much for my NaNoWriMo challenge. In the last 31 days, this is the first time I’m scribbling on a page. 31 days of no writing (unless I want to count helping the children with their homework or writing a grocery list. And I was supposed to write everyday in the challenge!), no thinking about writing, and no thoughts spared for the NaNoWriMo project I was so certain I’d get involved in and write often enough. Life happened. We had a home invasion on November 1st. At exactly 2.05am, a loud sound woke me up as well as some of our neighbours. It was the sound of our front door being forced open. It was too loud not to be heard in the still and quiet of that night. I saw my beau, by a window, already shouting for help once he realized what was going on. When I came to the same realization, I ran back into the room and, shaking all over, called our next door neighbour for assistance.  Then I put the children together on one bed and knelt down beside them. All that came out of my mouth was ‘the blood of Jesus’ over and again. It didn’t take long before voices joined my beau’s in the living room. I had an arm draped protectively over the children when my beau led two men into the bedroom. Dressed completely in black. Swinging lit torchlights and hanging guns like handbags. Even as I type this, I have that feeling in the pit of my stomach that warns of something not –so – good is about to happen. I’m practically reliving the nightmare. They wanted gold. They wanted money. They’d do something stupid if they didn’t get enough of both or either, one of them warned. ‘Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you and the kids,’ the other one stated in a rather calm tone. If this was meant to reassure me, it didn’t work. If they were not going to hurt me and the children, did that mean they were”more

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