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I have never written a blog about the Twins before. Thomas and Ellen my two beautiful babies who arrived into the world too early and left soon after.

But for some reason I have spent many hours in the last while reliving event’s nearly 21 years ago and asking questions to which I know there will be no answers.

The Twins are in my mind every day. At one point I thought I would never recover from their loss. Lying on the kitchen floor,my sister by my side, crying that I would never see them again. At times I wanted to go to the grave and pull at the soil to get to them for one last touch.

It all started nearly 21 years ago. Our first pregnancy. The Dr carrying out the routine ultrasound and you holding your breath waiting to see if everything ok. Is the baby ok?. And then with a huge smile ” so here we have the baby”… little heartbeat, little legs and feet and then..”and here we have baby two”. Sorry what now, did you say baby two. Mother of Jesus.. twins.

We walked out through the waiting room, shocked but thrilled scan pictures in hand,so excited to share our news. And share we did,first mam and Dad..then all the family and friends..we would need to start preparing for our two. Two of everything would be needed along with countless baby grows,vests, nappies, blankets,bibs,let alone double buggy,cots and possibly new car. Dad retired in order to be able to help with the minding of the twins when I went back to work. Oh the excitement. Three months gone,four months gone,five months gone. God I was struggling. These two must be some Buster’s.

Then one day in work things didn’t seem right. Off I went to the GP who suggested we go to the hospital just to be on the safe side. I spent 4 nights in hospital with a bad kidney infection and then told I could go home. I told the Dr I had lower back pain but was assured all was well.

Back home, bathroom floor,pain,my husband ringing my dad.. something bad was happening. Dad drove us back to the hospital. Myself and Mike in the back . Me crying” I don’t want to lose my babies”and mam reaching back from the passenger seat. ” You won’t love, everything will be ok”. We arrived at a&e and dad jumped and ran soon returning with a porter,nurse and trolley. Into the maternity ward, monitors, Doctors, Nurse’s, and all the while being told I was not in Labor. But after some time the Gynae on call appeared , injection given for the twins lungs,the twins were on the way.

And then the world was turned upside down. Two teams of Doctors,one for each twin all appearing,all introducing themselves to me,and me at this point high on drugs telling them all it was like an episode of E.R. as they were all Georgous…God bless the drugs 🙈. The Twins were born. A boy and a girl. I could see the tiny incubators and little feet in the air. I could see what turned out to be my son doing a wee which shot up in the air..and then they were whisked away. The Gynae explained that the babies had little chance and the possible complications if they survived. And then my dad arrived. He knew something was not right and had come back to the hospital. My consultant shook his hand and said he could only offer him tea,but he would think he needed something stronger. Dad held my hand and it is a moment I will never ever forget. We knew .

It wasn’t long before our babies lost their battle. Our family got to meet them,say hello and than goodbye. Our closest friends got to meet them and then we had to say goodbye. A basket,white cardigans, tiny white knitted hats. We kissed their faces and held their tiny hands. Perfect in every way. Absolutely perfect,my son Thomas with Downey fair hair and my daughter Ellen ,black hair just like me. Dad had contacted a local undertaker to get the small white coffin. I will never forget Mr Thompson ..no charge he said ..we have enough who pass in very old age who pay for those who never get a chance.

We buried Thomas and Ellen just ourselves,mam,dad and my two uncle’s who were there to help lay the coffin. I had decided I wanted a mass for our two. I wanted them to be remembered I wanted them to matter. To this day I will never forget those who arrived to support us and honour our babies. I will be forever grateful.

So I sit here crying. I don’t know why. I feel I should have shouted more, fought harder, been more assertive,shouted at the Dr . “I am in labour”..I don’t blame the Doctor’s or Nurse’s ,that won’t help ,but I was never pregnant before and the Dr should have known.

The Twins were born on July 21st ,not due until November and lo and behold here I was again pregnant with a baby due in November. A complicated pregnancy,three months spent bed bound in hospital which resulted in the birth of my beautiful blond haired baby josh. No hanging around here another few months down the line and here I was again expecting again in november. I was a bit mortified to be pregnant again so soon after having Josh but I blame Michael Whyte for that 😱 I sat in the garden one day with my dad and he said” you know you are going to have a girl”,and right he was. Sarah arrived into the world like a bat out of hell one week before her brother’s first birthday..our Irish Twins. Who would have thought.

Josh and Sarah are my everything. Josh,his own man,black or white,strong in opinions,says it as it is,a loyal friend and kind , especially to his nanny. Sarah,my best friend,a beauty in every way, determined,hard working,funny, honest, both different and unique and both loved beyond words. I look forward to seeing Josh and Sarah going on to lead their own lives soon, hopefully following their dreams whatever they may be. But my God will I miss them,😭

Perhaps this is why the twins are so apparent in my mind right now. Is it the fact that Josh and Sarah are now getting ready to start off on their journey that I am contiplating saying goodbye in a different way?,is it that I am wondering what path Thomas and Ellen would have chosen?. Is it that I would fight tooth and nail for Josh and Sarah and feel I didn’t for Thomas and Ellen?. Or is it because thinking of Thomas and Ellen I realize every day how lucky I am to have my two with me who I can plan with, hope for,cry for,be cross with,argue with and debate the great topics like “to vaccinate or not to vaccinate”.

My four children Thomas and Ellen as we call them ” our little two”, Josh and Sarah our blessings here. I am blessed that from each of them I have grown as a person,I have learnt what loss and hope feels like, I have learnt that I can survive the toughest of times but that I can celebrate the great and trying occasions with my children. Above all else I believe that the world works in strange and wonderful ways. Despite heartache and immense pain I have been blessed to have absolute happiness and even though Thomas and Ellen are not here with us I believe they are looking after us and they will forever be part of our lives. Our little two ❤️

I never had the best pair of legs. In fact my husband often said he had seen better legs in the zoo. It’s ok I was never offended as this was a private joke between us.

But my legs were strong. At one point I could run 10 miles including uphills, I could clamber up any hillside,climb 500 steps and never had a problem dancing the night away.

This march I will be four years cancer free. At least I hope I will be four years cancer free. The dreaded annual mammogram of the Lonely Boob will confirm this. But even four years later my treatment and drugs still cause side effects and probably always will.

While going through my treatment and for a long time after I struggled to get up out of a chair. I would tell the company I was in to bare with me as my legs were stiff. I could not walk up a stairs not even two steps without holding onto a bannister,and walking up a hill resulted in wobbly legs and pain for some time after. I never have and never will complain about any of this as I was and am so happy in the here and now regardless.

But little did I think that four years down the line I would still feel effects of my surgery, treatment, and drugs I now take, sometimes in the most awful ways , sometimes in the most bizarre and sometimes in downright difficult but funny ways. Apart from being a boob short there are many new little things that are now part of life.Chemo Fog, Lymphoedema,sore feet,two recent bouts of cellulitis,blasts of fatigue and well yes the poor legs still struggle.

I can walk for miles on the flat. In fact my job requires that I am on the move all day, walking people from A to B. It makes me happy to be active and moving but God forbid if I had to tackle a flight of stairs in work then panic and dread would ensue. Thank God for the humble elevator.

You see I have no strength in my upper legs, none, zero,nada. Sometimes I get embarrassed if I cannot climb up steps as well as those I am walking with. Sometimes I don’t want to stop and rest as I might just look unfit. Sometimes I am so delighted to be able to walk a flight of stairs without help. I now can walk the stairs in my sister’s house ( I live in a Bungalow). I don’t need to hold onto the bannister and this makes me so happy. In the last few years there have been a number of occasions where my legs failed me and despite the mortification it was just too funny.

If you can try to imagine this scene.

My sister Clare was taking part in a Duathalon in Tramore ,a seaside town close to my home. Myself and my other sister Elaine delightedly went to cheer Clare and the other participants on. All fine athletes. There is a promenade in tramore, accessable from each end and a number of steps dotted along to help you get onto the prom from the road. Most however if somewhere along the road with no steps can easily hop up onto the prom. So there we were all enthusiastic and encouraging to those completing their endeavor when we decided to move from the side of the road onto the prom. Elaine made some small strides,and with a hop skip and jump had landed gracefully on the prom. Then it was my turn. No hop skip or jump here. I strolled over,assessed the height I needed to achieve and decided to give it a whirl. My intended technique was left leg first to be followed by my right leg. Bad plan! The left leg brought me to a point of no return but the rest of the plan died. I found myself on all fours, arse in the air unable to go back but unable to get up. My sister on seeing my struggle tried to get me up but this would be the equivalent of lifting three bags of spuds with your little finger. Nothing was happening. Then we started to laugh. Now laughing is really not helpful in a situation like this. So there I was for all to see and I have no doubt that many of the spectators and participants were saying” look at yer woman,is she trying to belly crawl across the prom”. I was Scarlett for myself and eventually with great effort and the help of a bench to cling onto and Elaine to assist I became upright.

Then there was the day at the beach. All delighted,same sister and niece and nephew. Gourmet picnic, best picnic rugs and perfect quite spot, away from the crowds. I like my peace and quite I do. Time for a swim. So out we go making our way between the small scattering of rocks. It was like ” tip toe though the tulips” Not!

And then it happened. I lost my footing and fell. Not a big hard and fast fall but more a slow wibble wobble, oh oh fall. There I was once again arse in the air, same sister , and niece and nephew all open mouthed as I tried to no avail to get up. Every small wave that came my way rolled me back to where I started. What seemed like an eternity,dignity lost in the waves I was eventually rescued by the sister and 6 and 9 year old. A combined effort to get the poor aul one out of the water. I eventually made it out for a glorious swim and to tell the truth the mortification was worth it. More recently with great excitement I was part of an outdoor performance with the choir I am part of. Singing in the city at Christmas time, had the little hot toddy then made our way to the stage. Once again I was left assessing the situation as it needed a good high step with the legs to get onto the stage. In panic all I could do was grab onto the microphone in front of me and pray and hope that I would not pull it down. Must have been some microphone stand as I managed to get there and then spent the whole performance trying to figure out how to get down again. I had to ask one of the festival crew to help me down. I am sure he must have thought I had notions as I held out my arm like for assistance. But he saved the day.

Yesterday after a tough and sad day I spoke to a friend. We spoke about the cruelty of life and how unfair life can be. We spoke about how we complain about the small stuff, the stuff that really does not matter but as humans that is what we do. It is part of us,part of every day. But we spoke of what we are grateful for. I found myself saying I was grateful that I had two legs that got me out of bed each day and when I think about it they have not really failed me but carry me every day to live my life,maybe without mountains and great hills but to stand proud when needed, walk to hug someone when needed, run even slowly to reach a destination, escort people who are worried or scared to attend their appointment and tuck them under me for comfort when snuggled up.

You know what I love my legs…even if you will see better legs in the zoo.

Hello. What do I start with. Don’t know really, but over the last many months I just knew I had to start again. Or, I suppose continue, yes that is it,the continuation thankfully of my very Ordinary Life.

I read back now on my own writing and sometimes it is difficult to believe that that was me, that was my life, that was the life my family were living but I am so glad that I wrote those pieces as they were thoughts in a moment,thoughts that were so strong they had to go on paper and thoughts that displayed the facts , sad and funny of my life .

Writing pieces that I thought might help someone, somewhere for whatever reason or at least provide a little bit of comfort ,hope ,laughs and yes I Know tears. I know there were tears.

I loved it. I loved sharing ,being honest and open and just getting it out there. I loved when someone stopped me and said how much a story had meant to them. I loved when someone said it helped,or they laughed ,or they cried because then I knew it mattered.

So I am here tonight Jan 3rd 2021. I have made a commitment to myself and now I am making it to you. Since before I ever met cancer they always said that I should write a book. Not that my life has been superstar amazing but I suppose throughout I have a little amount of stories that always got the laughs or tears. I suppose I have had a few experiences, tough ones, but as they say I keep on smiling .

There is so much I want to share,I have so many hopes but I have so many joys in my life now. I want to write again. And what better way than to start my book.

Welcome to” Green Bucket Chairs” .

We see the best in people.

We see the worst in people.

Most of us are coming together

Some of us long to be apart.

Most of us want to beat this.

Some of us want to just blast everything.:And so it goes.

I just want to buy three 16 packs of toilet roll.

I just want to buy a six pack for my mother.

I just want to fill the presses with food for four weeks.

I just want my dinner for tonight.

I just want to go for my usual 5k walk.

I just want to be able to walk to the gate.

I just want to see my friends.

I just want to hug my parents.

I just want the kids to go back to school.

I just want to go back to school where I am fed and cared for.

I just want to be first in the queue.

I just want to make the queue.

I just want to sound all knowledgeable about the virus I know nothing about.

I just don’t want to hear your he said she said knowledge. It makes me anxious.

I just want to know who is behind the conspiracy to give us all these fake numbers.

I just want to cry for all those suffering and gone.

I just want to continue to hammer Leo and Simon.. Just cause I think they are shite and I just don’t like em.

I just want people who are articulate, factual, able to get the point across and instill calm on us to give me the info. I don’t care who it is.. Once I think the job is being done.. Leo Simon, Tony and Co… 👏And no i didn’t vote for them 😁

I just want to whinge and whinge and complain and whinge more.

I just want people to stop.. And just try to be nice.

I just want to get a refund on my private health insurance.

I want to

A: Give you a slap.

B. I JUST WANT MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS TO SURVIVE THIS.❤️

Sometimes it is so hard to know what to say and sometimes so easy. Now is a combination of both.

Here we are, all of us together but so far apart, confused, scared, lonely, bored, stressed, emotional but I hope above all hopeful.

Today I sat on my sofa and cried. My mam rang me to say she was feeling unwell, and was going back to bed. My mam lives two minutes away from myself and my two sisters. My mam has numerous underlying health issues, I have a low immune system and my sisters work in different capacities in the hse. ( I cannot find words enough to praise them right now). So it’s a tricky one to mind our mam. But we have to mind her. Today I had a moment of panic. What if I got sick, what if my sisters got sick. Who would look after my mam?

I had a little tear and then thought this through. My mam has not been out or about in a fair while ( mam likes to stay in looking at four in a bed and location location 😂). We are all taking precautions, getting the shopping in for mam, collecting prescriptions, making sure she is ok and today my sister gowned up and went in to take mams temperature and reassured us all was well. She sent a picture and that was when I cried.

I think it was then that the seriousness of the situation hit me.

I was due a mammogram at the end of the month. I was waiting and looking forward to this hoping that the results would be good and for another year I could carry on. But I completely understand the necessity to cancel. I have never complained about our health service and I am certainly not going to start now.

But for the first time I did Internet grocery shopping. I suppose I always try to be brave, be strong, be positive. Over the last few weeks people have been saying to me that I need to mind myself, stay in, avoid shops. But me being me up to last night, taking precautions, I was going shopping.

Then it changed last night when I spent my shopping time running away from groups of young adults and a family of five with no spacial awareness hogging the frozen aisle, of which I reversed out of very fast, but then everywhere I went they seemed to be there.. Again hogging the aisle.

I suppose I realized really only today that I am vulnerable. I am not invincible. I wish I could volunteer to help in some capacity but I need to look after myself aswell.

This is so surreal. I am proud of my two children, teenagers who would not even contemplate trying to meet their friends. I am proud of my niece and nephew aged 7 and 9 who are simply accepting how things are and getting on with it. I am proud of my sisters and brother, my sisters on the front line and my brother in Boston doing his bit in research. I am proud of my husband just going out to work while he can and not complaining. I am proud of my friends and family and all those who are strangers to me. All those thousands of people who in all their different fields of work are looking after you and me, not looking for thanks, not looking for praise, not looking for admiration, just doing their jobs.

So if you have the opportunity to say “Thank You”, than say it. Say thank you to the young lad serving you with a smile on his face, say thank you to the lady who unknown to you is worrying about her elderly mam but still greets you in her normal friendly manner, say thank you to the lady or gent on the end of the phone in your doctors surgery, please don’t complain to them, can you imagine the stress, say thank you to your pharmacist and staff and please try to support them by ordering your meds in loads of time, say thank you to those in the social services. Can you even begin to imagine the pressure with so many thousands of people all of a sudden signing on. Say thank you to anyone you know who is helping us through this.

And above all else please follow instructions and do as you are told. Follow procedures as directed. Please stop spouting tripe and muck on social media, it is not helping! Please keep your kids from going out. It won’t kill them to stay in but it might kill someone if they go out.

It is a tough time for all of us. Tonight I saw a report whereby the example of pandoras box was used. I smiled and remembered my dad at a time telling me about Pandoras Box. He told me that when all the crap and shite and bad stuff was left out then one thing remained inside.. That being “Hope”.

So hope is what we need to do. Hope that by the end of this we will have survived, we will have learnt maybe what really counts, we will be a better society. And I really hope that when this is all over and we carry on that you won’t forget what all those selfless people did for you, how they kept this country running and how out health service workers in all capacities put you first and never questioned it once.

Hi all, you know sometimes the wind is taken out of your sails. You are happily trodding along doing your best to live your life with positive vibes, trying to look at cancer as being a pest that invaded you, curled back into its shell like a rotten sneaky snail, and then may or may not peek its head again.

Last weekend a wonderful Irish Journalist, Keelin Shanley passed away. A beautiful lady not much older than myself, having had a breast cancer diagnosis a good number of years ago, a women who felt she had beaten this disease, but a woman who sadly its ugly head just sneakily rose again.

I cried. Selfishly I cried for myself. I cried as when I was in bed recovering from my mastectomy or in bed really sick with chemo, Keelin was one of the women that was my inspiration, my hope. I remember so clearly a realitive of mine trying to be positive and giving me all the examples of people who had “beaten” Cancer. Keelin was one of them.

I pointed Keelin out to my children on the news, telling them this was a lady who had gone through the same cancer as me and how fantastic she looked and was doing.

Keelin was beautiful, elegant, an absolute professional and while I did not know this lady, she seemed like quite simply a lovely person.

I was stunned to hear of Keelins passing. I met a friend today in the same position as myself. She told me that she also cried at Keelins passing, We cried and many more and why?

We cried because, when cancer invades your life you look at anything and everything that gives you hope. You look at all the fruits and veg that are supposed to be anti cancer, you are swallowing the turmeric by the pot, you are drinking Kambuca, eating formented foods and thinking these will all save you from cancer.

But more importantly you are looking at those around you, those maybe in the public domain, or maybe those fighting the battle just like you have, and hoping they will be ok, if they are ok then you will be ok.

And then sometimes it just does not go that way, sometimes the battle quitely fades into the background leaving just memories of that one wonderful person, maybe a person full of life, strength, determination and fight.

That person that gave me hope, gave me belief, gave me strength, and then they are gone and then I am feeling frightened.

I

Friday night 7th Feb 2020. A big election for my country to take place tomorrow.. So if you know nothing about Irish politics as I don’t, I’ll just give a very simple snap shot… For many many years it’s been like two groups of people who have had control at different times, normally one on, one off, kinda like shift work 🤔 but it lasts for years… We all hope that the new shift will be productive, giving us hope, giving us positivity, and give us a chance to live our lives as best we can, earning a few Bob, enough to give us some quality of life, enough to be able to give our children a chance to maybe realise the dreams that our generation could not, enough to make our world better.

I don’t know how my country will vote tomorrow. Its anyone’s game. But I just hope that people will be true to themselves, really look at what will make this wonderful country great again, and see through the slap backing, hand rubbing, corruption and shleven type politics that have distroyed our country.. We will wait and see.

Today I was in the gym, most likely the fattest person in the gym, but probably one of the happiest.You see the gym that I am a member of, a huge proportion of clients are students in the nearby college. Magnificent, georgous, young kids, the most gorgeous gym pance and tops, big ear phones.. I have no clue what they are. But today I was there with my sister. That is a rare occasion as normally I visit the gym when my sister is at work.

Today while I tried a quick walk on the treadmill I caught site of my sister working out and just wanted to run up and say ” you are amazing”.

But I didn’t. But now I will tell you about my fabulous, georgous, so special sisters.. Without them, it bears no thinking.

So lots of us have sisters. I am the elder lemon of our family but I am also the most wild. Two sisters Elaine and Clare. The three of us totally different in personality but with the same upbringing, same morals, and the same outlook on life.

As the elder lemon I headed off to college, headed to France, headed to Holland, Zootameer to be precise and missed a whole heap of my younger sisters trials and tribulations. At the time looking back these seemed insignificant but now all those years later maybe the elder lemon could have helped.

The years go by, we get older and with age comes a wisdom and ability to handle situations we thought never to find ourselves in.We have celebrated all the highs and lows together, new jobs, new house, new babies, new beginnings.

I celebrated great joys with my sisters. I celebrated Achieving goals that once seemed unachievable.We have stood next to each other at the worst of times. When my dad was at end of life and we had the privilege of minding dad at home we supported each other, if all got too much for one of us the other just put there arms out and we hugged each other. If one of us needed to just walk outside and try deal with the awful situation of watching our dad live his final day’s, well then us others would keep the bedside company going.

Yes sadly me and my sisters sat with my dad when he passed on. But I am so glad we were there together , we looked after each other. We shared this experience and we looked after each other in all the days after.

But we have also had the best of times. Crying laughing at something that nobody else would get. Our little jokes that makes only us pee our pants. Our sence of humour and sarcisims that no one else will understand. Going on road trips and getting the sucky sweets to help us on our journey.

And then so unexpectedly I got sick. Here we go again. During the great snow of march 2018, this was the first time I flashed my boob to my sister. She knew, I knew. And within four weeks I had lost a boob and a whole lot more.

Surgery, chemo, radiotherapy, I don’t know how I can explain what my sisters did for me, only to say that if you hit rock bottom, feel so sick you are glad to die, and in so much pain you think you cannot do much more, and then your sister holds your hand, puts a wet facecloth on your face and tells you it will be OK.. She texts you every day from work ” how are you today sinead”… I always replied.. Not to bad. My sisters always asking was I OK, did I need anything, would I like cake, ice cream..

After my second chemo I was admitted to hospital very, very sick. Last week I was talking to my sister Elaine about one of the moments in hospital I went to the bathroom and returned to the bed, in a state of collapse, lying on the bed crying and my sister crouched over me crying.. She was saying she wished there was something she could do for me. But my sister has no recollection of this. She will tell you it was all a blur as she just wanted her sister to be ok.

And now here I am, nearly two years cancer free. Had a check up yesterday… All good.. Have a mammagram in a few weeks, fingers crossed, but in the meantime suffice to say that when I was originally diagnosed with cancer my first thought was my children. And one day I lay in bed and thought about the what ifs and the what nots. I thought about if things don’t work out for me, who would look after my children. My sisters topped the list and perhaps I need say no more. ❤️

And so here we are january 12th 2020. We are all going to be so new, so determined, so positive, so gung ho. We are going to change the world, we are going to just make this our year.

Yes we are all feeling compeled to make all those big promises to ourselves as follows:

I am going to loose 4 stone this year and be so amazing for the xmas office party.

I am going to walk 5 miles every day and my work collegues will be so impressed with me.

I am going to go to the gym 5 times a week , bust my butt and get my high after nearly sweating to death.

I am going to do the Keto diet / maybe go vegan ? I love mushrooms.

I am going to buy 45 tupperware containers for the fab food , made in bulk , pre prepared meals for the freezer.

I will get the new trainers . new very loose gym top , and ten pairs of new sports socks.

My god this time next year I will be ready for Love Island.

And so it goes , millions of people , its a universal thing, and when that bell rings..here is to a new me !! Pressure , self inflicted, plans to be fitter, happier, skinnier, fatter, healthier, change job, or just be more successful than the person sitting next to you.

And that was how the new year was for me, making rediculous promises , and stupidly thinking I would achive them all. Fool I was.

Then one year you end up thinking what is this really about, maybe just make a promise to slow down, read a book, have a swim, sit and close your eyes on a beach and listen to the Ocean.

Believe me a swim in the ocean is better than any high powered fancy pance meeting.

And here I sit , trying to write something, anything, to just I suppose say ….In all that I wish for , there will never be a new me , there will never be a new you. When we buy a new car we get rid of the old one, send it to a junk place and have it squashed into a million pieces.

When we buy a new top, its new, never worn by us before, all fresh and lovely. When its a new day, the day before is gone. You can never relive yesterday.

So why do we want a new me? Do we all dislike ourselves so much that we want a new version – Stepford Wife Style- perfection , submission , just like everybody else.

I don’t know , I am like so many more others..New Year , New Me. Why do I want a new me. Well I dont really want a new me I just want to tweek a few things. I had goals set long before the New Year , still the same goals. Slow to start but getting there. You see my goal is not a new me but a new Boob. Yes a new boob, and the other boob getting help to be back where it belongs. But to do this I need to achieve a few goals, get fitter, reduce BMI and hopefully, eventually , job done and ill be in the Bikini in Barbados, or even Ballymacaw.

So I have thought about this and I keep coming back to the same thing. Instead of all those big promises to change your world just start at the beginning and be happy!!

Be happy in your world , in your life, in your body. Dont compare yourself to others, you are you. Wake up, get up and say thank you for another day. If its sunny step outside and feel the sun, if its stormy light the fire and snuggle up. Yes read a book, any book, once it makes you smile it does not matter who the author is.

Just smile, live your life as best you can because believe me if you are happy all the rest will follow.

ocks {buy one get one free}….