Archive | April 2012

The question is………..?


WOULD YOU CALL THESE HYPOTHETICAL QUESTIONS OR RHETORICAL QUESTIONS?  IF THEY ARE NOT RHETORICAL OR HYPOTHETICAL, WHAT ARE THEY, DO THEY HAVE ANSWERS?

  1. WHAT IF THERE WERE NO HYPOTHETICAL QUESTIONS?
  2. WHY ISN’T THERE MOUSE FLAVOURED CAT FOOD?
  3. WHAT’S THE OLDEST TRICK IN THE BOOK?
  4. WHAT’S THE POINT IN A HOUSE DISPLAYING A SOLD SIGN?
  5. WHO COMES UP WITH ALL THOSE MARKETING SAYINGS “THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX” “BREAK THROUGH THE GLASS CEILINGS”?
  6. WHAT WAS THE BEST THING BEFORE SLICED BREAD?  (A BAKER SAID IT WAS UNSLICED AND A HAND FULL OF FINGERS)
  7. WHEN SIGNWRITERS GO ON STTRIKE, HOW DO THEY MAKE THEIR POINT?
  8. WHO NAMES THE DULUX CHART?
  9. WHERE DOES MY LAP GO WHEN I STAND UP?   TO LAPLAND?
  10. IS LAUGHTER THE BEST MEDICINE?
  11. CAN YOU MEND A BROKEN HEART?
  12. IS IT POSSIBLE TO FALL INTO A BARREL OF SHIT AND COME UP SMELLING OF ROSES?
  13. WHY DO SOCKS GO MISSING IN THE WASH?
  14. IS IT POSSIBLE TO BORE SOMEONE TO DEATH?  DEPENDS HOW LONG THE DRILL IS
  15. IF LOVE IS BLIND WHY IS LINGEREE SO POPULAR?
  16. WHY DO WE TAKE A BREAK INSTEAD OF HAVE ONE?  SURELY THE BREAK STAYS WHERE IT IS.
  17. IS THERE ANOTHER WORD FOR SYNONYM?
  18. WHY IS  MARMALADE NOT CALLED ORANGE JAM?
  19. IS HONESTY THE BEST POLICY?
  20. WHERE IS THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE / WHEN IS THE TWELFTH OF NEVER / WHERE IS THE BACK OF BEYOND?
  21. IF A DEAF MAN GOES TO COURT IS IT STILL CALLED A HEARING?
  22. WHY DO ROUND PIZZAS COME IN SQUARE BOXES?
  23. WHATS THE EASIEST JOB IN THE WORLD?
  24. IF YOU SEE AN ENDANGERED ANIMAL EATING AN ENDANGERED PLANT WHAT DO YOU DO?
  25. HOW MUCH ROOM DO YOU NEED TO SWING A CAT?
  26. IS IT POSSIBLE TO SELL YOUR SOUL?
  27. WHY DON’T SHEEP SHRINK WHEN IT RAINS?
  28. WHY DID HITLER HAVE THAT SILLY MOUSTACHE?
  29. WHAT IS THE PERFECT CRIME?
  30. HOW MUCH CAN I GET AWAY WITH AND STILL GO TO HEAVEN? (THIS IS THE ONE I WANT THE ANSWER TO)
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Apartheid – what is that?


APARTHEID – whats that?

‎22 ‎March ‎2012, ‏‎13:43:00 | blackberrybear
COMING AND GOING, NEVER KNOWING
WHEN we came to South Africa in 1974, we didn’t know what was waiting for us.  In those days SA didn’t feature much on the television so all we knew about it was from the pictures in the immigration brochures my dad brought home for us to see.
Airberrybear

Arriving in South Africa 1974

I was expecting to arrive in a stark environment and live with black people in villages of straw huts.  I thought animals roamed free and concrete and bricks were a thing of the past.  My grandparents even told us we were going to a place that was so hot we wouldn’t use carpets or curtains.  They told us we wouldn’t have to go to a proper school and we would learn in the open air at our village.

At only nine years old this was going to be the biggest adventure of my life.  We left Southhampton harbour on the SA Oranje ship for a 13 day trip on the Atlantic Ocean, a trip to our future.
My mom was sea sick for much of the journey so my sister and I were left very much to our own devices while our dad spent most of the time with friends and in the bar.
I learned to swim on the ship in the pool filled with sea water.  I spent most of the time in the pool, getting out only when they emptied it or when we had to go to the dining room or to the entertainment centre.
The celebration of king neptunes day, celebrated when the ship crosses the equator, remains in my memory forever.
Visits to the ships bridge were on the entertainment list for kids so when the Bridge list went up on the notice board I put mine and my sisters names down.  It took my dad a while to explain to the man who was looking forward to his challenging game of bridge (cards) that we were only 9 and 7 years old and had made an error.  The ship journey was something I will hold in my memory forever.  I remember one night when the sea was so rough that the waves were so hight they covered our porthole.  My dad made light of it, telling us to run up to the top end of the cabin when the ship tipped one way and back when it tipped the other – it may have been very frightening otherwise.
We arrived at Cape Town harbour around 4.30am, just before daybreak. Everyone went out onto the deck to view table mountain with its cloudy tablecloth draped over it.
As we neared the port on December 12, 1974, I could have cried, I was so disappointed to see buildings, real buildings – just another country like the one we just left?
Whilst disembarking, a man coming to collect cargo recognised by dads strong Geordie accent and invited us to his house for lunch.  We did go but had to go back to town to find Cape Town train station as we were catching (used lightly) the Milk train to Johannesburg at 11pm. A train which stops at every single rural station on its two day trip.  This was another trip I distinctly remember too, we had our own carriage with beds to sleep in while the crickets chirped all night long.
This, I remember being my first encounter with black people.  There were not a lot of them, but for someone who had never in her life seen a black, it seemed to be a lot.
It was rather amusing seeing these dark people who spoke a strange language and had such flat noses and fat lips and big fat buttocks.  Big fat black women with babies tied to their backs with blankets, carrying boxes and bags deftly on their heads.  The men were all slim and all looked the same, differentiated only by their clothing.
In those days I knew absolutely nothing about apartheid.  Even my folks were very in the dark about how prevalent it was in this beautiful land.
We were amazed  to find blacks and whites toilets separated.  To find that black people moved out of your way on a pavement and wouldn’t look you in the eyes.  This we saw as being shifty, not realising it was just them behaving how they were expected to behave – subservient.
Not knowing Afrikaans confused the issue more.  We didn’t know that  “Blankes aleenlik” meant whites only.  We thought it meant “blacks only” and suffered the strange looks from passersby.
Everyone referred to blacks then as “Kaffir’s”or “munts”.  My mother wouldn’t here of this, she wouldn’t let these word be used in her house, along with fart, pig, stupid and liar.
The South Africans called black people  boys and girls regardless of their ages and they, in turn, called all adults boss and madam.
When we arrived in Johannesburg we were whisked off by the company my dad had come to contract with for the next two years.  In Kempton Park, a town  very near the airport, we were dropped off at a flat we would be staying in for a while.
We always lived in a flat in England, but the huge ground floor flat at 7 daleen hof in Long Street with windows opening out to a swimming pool in the complex was not a flat to us – it was a mansion.
The guy from my dad’s company had left us a box full of food.  I will always remember the little tin of mixed fruit jam.  The label was Afrikaans (konfyt) and the picture on the label misled us to believe it was tinned fruit.  We realised the mistake when we opened the tin months later.
We went shopping one Saturday afternoon in Kempton Park, walking to town since we had no transport.  Fresh from England, on a blistering hot December afternoon, we were so hot that we dived into every bit of shade we could find.  We were very dismayed to find that there was not one shop open and the streets were deserted.
Our first Xmas in SA was celebrated at our new house in Northrop Road, Impala Park. A three bedroomed mansion with a garden all the way round the house.
My parents who were officially broke .  They had bought a bed each, a fridge, a lounge suite (top of the range in SA in those days), and a coffee table.  Xmas that year Santa brought us only a doll each and a paddling pool and game to share but this is one of the most memorable Xmases ever.
During those early years my memories are very sketchy but I do remember we didn’t have very much exposure to blacks.  They lived in different areas to whites, areas we learned were referred to as locations.
The most blacks I saw at one time would be at the café on a Friday afternoon.  They would mostly be hanging around outside the black’s bottlestore.  Yes, in those days the white people had huge fully stocked bottlestores and stuck on the side would be a tiny store for the blacks, stacked with beers and wine and cartons of Magau, what we used to call kaffirbeer.
The blacks would sit outside the shops playing dice, gambling away their meagre wages. They didn’t pay us much heed.  It wouldn’t be long though until the police vans would pull up and pile them all inside and drive them away.  We never questioned this, it was just the way things were here in this strange land.
A land where everything closed at midnight on a Saturday until Monday morning.  A land where our Afrikaans neighbours dressed up in suits, crimpolene dresses, and hats to go to church, then come home and barbecue (braai), drink lots of brandy and coke, which was very cheap at that time.  Our early experience of Afrikaans families followed this routine, many of them ending their Sunday’s in huge fist fights with the aggressive men shouting at and abusing their wives and children.  So not only the language barrier, and the behaviour of the white Afrikaaners set a paradigm in which the white immigrants stuck very much together.  The animosity between Afrikaaners and immigrants was antagonised by the cruel way the Afrikaaners treated the black people.  Most Afrikaans households had at least one servant, a black woman, working at the house.  Many of these women were verbally, physically and sexually abused by the adults and they had no-one to turn to for help.  This much I remember, I think the barrier between the Afrikaaners and Immigrants protected us from seeing more.
Most houses had a“servants quarters” which was a tiny square brick and concrete room and an old fashioned toilet adjoined.  This was a building separated from the houses and the servants would live in them to be able to come into the house at the crack of dawn and stay until the food was cooked and dishes were cleaned at night.  Blacks were subjected to curfews and were not allowed to be seen in the streets after 9pm if they didn’t want to be loaded into the police vans and taken away for days, sometimes never to return.
My folks tried a myriad of times to employ “servants” but it just frustrated them, they didn’t like them living in the tiny room and my folks didn’t like the highly spiced food they prepared.  My folks always treated what they called the “maid” well.  The hours were reasonable and they wouldn’t allow them to wait on them, or serve friends when they visited.
Some maids used to take care my sister and I with them during the day when my folks were working.  This was fun because we used to go with them to visit their friends in their “quarters”.  We got to go out and meet other kids, we didn’t realise when we told our folks and the maid was fired it was due to this.
I remember one of our maids wanting to take us to a friend who lived miles away.  She wanted to catch a bus there but in those days whites and blacks travelled on separate buses.  We were too scared to catch the whites bus all by ourselves and the maid wasn’t allowed to take us onto her bus.
The first time I actually heard about the curfew  was when I was a teenager and we moved to Atlasville.  Due to the curfew and in a bid to keep the blacks out of the area, there were no servants quarters built on the houses.  Here one had to employ daily/casual maids who would come from home in the morning by bus and leave as soon as they could in the afternoon to catch the bus home again.  I only remember all of this because I thought the term “white by night” was rather poetic.
During the days one would see what I thought very frightening.  Ten to twenty black men, shacked together with bars and chains, dressed in green overalls would walk the streets.  They were, however, supervised by a white Afrikaans male who would watch them cleaning pavements, digging and mowing municipal land.  These gangs were prisoners and we were warned not to go anywhere near them.  I am not sure if the warning, the sight of them or the aggression of the supervisor was more scary.
Black pupils and teachers didn’t attend white’s schools so we had very little exposure to or relationships with any black people, apart from the maids.
The only black face at school was the ice cream “boy”. He would ride a thick wheeled bike known as a bike with kaffirtyres  I used to buy a banana boy icelolly for 5c every afternoon from my tuck money.  The other 5c I had used to buy a packet of crisps (simba chips) at the school tuck shop.
In June 1976 my sister and I were put in a plane and sent to England.  We weren’t told why or informed about anything going on in SA so we were happy to go knowing our folks were selling up and coming to join us as soon as they sold the house.  They changed their minds though and brought us back in December that same year.
We had no idea that it was the lead up to the Soweto Riots that made my folks decide to send us back to England.  We didn’t have a clue that people and places were being bombed up by the black political freedom fighters.  We didn’t learn about all of this until the Wimpy bar in benoni was bombed.  I guess this was too close for comfort and the schools started to teach us how to drop to the floor and hide under our desks if we hear loud noises.  Things settled down and although nothing seemed to change in our little lives, an uprising was happening among the blacks that we were totally unaware of.
At school we sang “die stem”, South Africas very beautiful national anthem.  We sang it in Afrikaans yet I still to this day get goosebumps when I hear it.
English, Afrikaans and mathematics were compulsory, if you failed any of these subjects it would fail you for the entire term.  We didn’t learn any African languages.
We were so protected from the black people, their ways, their cultures beliefs and traditions, we were also taught not to question this.
I remember someone at high school (early 80’s) telling me that you would be put into jail if you said the word “Mandela” – I didn’t know what the word meant, let alone that it was the name of one the future presidents of South Africa.
Although there were no blacks at high school either, there were some at the private schools we used to compete against in athletics.  Some time during my high school career the word Kaffir also became illegal.  I also remember being told in high school that it was illegal for three or more people to stand together in conversation – we took this all very lightly since we didn’t really have a clue what they were talking about.  We just did as we were told, and asked no questions, we never knew otherwise.
The only blacks we ever learned about at school were the Hottentots and the reknowned Zulu chiefs and kings.  We were never given any education about politics or apartheid.  I actually hadn’t even heard the word apartheid the early 80’s when SA was hammered by the rest of the world with embargo’s.  Television and radio broadcasts never mentioned anything about what was happening politically until the embargo’s started to affect the economy.  Newspapers were monitored and reading material which was thought to be contentious was banned.  Even Noddy and Big Ears was taken off the television because they were friends with a golliwog. The government of South Africa then were trying to manipulate the minions with the tunnel vision, mind washing control of media.
We didn’t, for one minute, have any idea that we were a minority race and subject to the black’s wrath over the apartheid they were experiencing.
We actually didn’t have a clue, we lived our youth in absolute ignorant bliss.

 

Socially crippling disability


What is a socially crippling disabiity.

When explaining my condition in layman’s terms I use other better known conditions to describe the seriousness of this limiting and socially crippling disability.  There are a few I can think of off the top of my head:  Epilepsy, diabetes, Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s, bipolar and the two horrid ones I am unlucky to have, Narcolepsy and Cataplexy.    These awful conditions affect a persons entire life and many have no known source or cure.

What is this disability

Well firstly let me tell you that I don’t refer to this as a disability except in formal reference. I call it a condition, it is fairly well controlled but I still have days where even medication doesn’t help

Narcolepsy – a sleeping condition

My description of Narcolepsy is the uncontrollable need to sleep. Then there is the bad side of it, whenever I am sitting comfortably, quietly, warm, in a dark place, watching movies, sitting in waiting rooms, in church, at prize giving, etc….
I just black out. I don’t even feel tired but suddenly I “wake up”. I feel like I have been sleeping for hours but normally I wake suddenly before anyone even notices.

NHS defines Narcolepsy as a long-term (chronic sleep) disorder that disrupts a normal sleeping pattern. Symptoms of narcolepsy can be mild or severe, and include:

•falling asleep suddenly, without warning (known as ‘sleep attacks’) •excessive daytime sleepiness (EDS) •temporary muscle weakness when responding to emotions such as laughter and anger (cataplexy)

Complex Cataplexy

This I only experience when I am extremely tired or emotionally distressed. My legs just sort of buckle under me, I walk but they don’t co-operate. My arms jump, jerks I cannot anticipate or control. Its awful. This is worse than Narcolepsy but doesn’t happen as regularly.

Together with both of these conditions there is the vivid dreams. Dreams that are wild, colourful, creative, imaginative and distinct but very disturbing.

Lancet studies report Cataleptic attacks are a sudden loss of muscle control. This may be just a slight feeling of weakness, such as sagging facial muscles. The head might drop forward or worse, buckling of the knees resulting in total collapse of the person.

In severe cases, the patient can become completed paralysed, lasting for a few seconds to several minutes. During this time, the patient may seem to be unconscious, but can be fully awake and temporarily unable to move. A very frightening situation to be in. These attacks can be brought on by emotions: anger, surprise, fear or even laughter.

How did I get this condition?

I don’t know. I know that I first realised something was wrong during my first pregnancy when I was knitting baby jackets, I would fall asleep while knitting. My sister always said ” you are the only person I know who can knit and sleep at the same time.”

NHS reports that Narcolepsy is a relatively rare condition. The exact number of people who are affected by narcolepsy is unknown because the condition often goes unreported or is not diagnosed correctly.

It is estimated that narcolepsy affects 1 in 2,000 people worldwide, which is the equivalent of 25,000 people in the UK. It is also estimated that around 80% of people with the condition are undiagnosed.

Narcolepsy affects men and women equally. The condition usually begins during adolescence (the teenage years), although it can sometimes start earlier. Cases of narcolepsy that have started later (during middle age) have also been reported.

Narcolepsy does not usually cause any long-term physical health problems, but it can affect a person’s personal and professional life significantly.

Diagnosis:

I visited a doctor who was concerned enough to send me to a neurologist  for an EEG.  This is back in the arc ages before Sleep clinics and sleep study was known of.   All sorts of wires attached to my head,  I was placed in a dark room while the machine I was hooked up to measured whatever it measures.
Straight after the procedure the specialist told me I have Narcolepsy and sent me home.  My doctor was very vague about the diagnosis and just gave me a prescription of medication advised by the specialist.

Treatment:

I was originally given a prescription for a very strong stimulant drug. My medical aid wouldnt pay for these as they were classed as dieting medication. I remember being on diet one time and taking amphetamines and feeling the same effect as the prescribed medication. I was able to buy this over the counter at more than 75% less that I paid for the other medication. So I started on a twenty year course of amphetamines – one a day did the trick, a half extra helped if I was really tired

Technical explanation:

Pathophysiological studies have shown that the disease is caused by the early loss of neurons in the hypothalamus that produce hypocretin, a wakefulness-associated neurotransmitter present in cerebrospinal fluid. The cause of neural loss could be autoimmune since most patients have the HLA DQB1*0602 allele that predisposes individuals to the disorder. Treatment is with stimulant drugs to suppress daytime sleepiness, antidepressants for cataplexy, and gamma hydroxybutyrate for both symptoms. Because narcolepsy is an under-recognised disease, it is important that general practitioners and other primary health-care workers identify abnormal daytime sleepiness early.

Lancet. 2007 Feb 10;369(9560):499-511.  Narcolepsy with cataplexy.  Dauvilliers Y, Arnulf I, Mignot E.  Source  Neurologie, CHU Montpellier Hôpital Gui-de-Chauliac and INSERM U888, Montpellier-France. ydauvilliers@yahoo.fr

How dangerous is Narcolepsy?

Narcolepsy is not dangerous in itself, but it is usually accompanied by Cataplexy. A cataleptic attack could happen at anytime in the home, at work or in leisure time or sport.

A sudden total collapse could be potentially life threatening, if operating or close to running machinery. Friends and work colleagues should be told exactly what to do if an attack does happen.
•Check the person is in safe position to recover away from other dangers, electrical appliances
•Make sure the person is as comfort as possible, checking there is no unnatural limb or body positions
•Allow the person to recover in their own time

Uncontrollable “Sleep Attacks” can also develop into dangerous situations e.g. operating machinery, driving a car or even cooking.

It is your legal obligation to inform the Driver and Vehicle Licensing Agency (DVLA) about this medical condition

The problems created by this disorder can be social and financial. Some people may find a collapsed person disturbing and panic. Getting suitable employment after being diagnosed with this condition would probably be hard to do, as you should always inform an employer for insurance purposes.

Please Note:this information is not medical advice.
Always seek the advice of your doctor if you have a health problem.

In the beginning……..


DAY 1…………………

Well here I begin to seriously blog. 

I am going though this step by step and hopefully will come out the other end a better blogger.

I am going to write on a number of issues and bits n bobs which are close to my heart.

Im not sure that all subject will be of interest to a single audience.  I will try to establish who prefers to read what and divide it up with more relevance later on.

I need to find sources of information to blog on. Information which links to and enhances what i am writing about and images to complement and brighten it all up.

I plan to read all comments and use criticism constructively.  I hate being criticized and now I am putting myself out there to be open to it all…….so treat me gently.

I have read a bit about search engines and ads but my goodness, I am just starting, I wil pick it all up as I go along.

I want everyone who takes the time to read this blog to pay heed as I am going to send it back to you together with a new blog in a years time………………hopefully there will be a world of difference.

Since I am not feeling in top form today I am going to keep this brief. 

I also have lots of reading to do.

Berry goodnight to all xxx

 

 

A LIST OF LISTS


I was beginning to think I had OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) with my compulsion for making lists. Then my ample behind landed in the proverbial butter when I found out about blogging. Lists, lists everywhere…I was in 7th heaven.
Everything I do or must remember to do goes on a list. I have so many lists my dad often jokes that I need a list of my lists.

So now im going to share with you some of the crazy and not so crazy lists I have made.

100 THINGS TO BE THANKFUL FOR LIST
This is a list I write when I am down in the dumps or feeling all sorry for myself. Basically its a list of things I have to be thankful for. You should try it, its amazing the things you think of. I went right from a loving family and good health to toilet paper and toenail clippers. You may think 100 things are a lot to think of but if you keep going you will probably be able to list much more than 100 things and its amazing how great you feel after doing this list. It sort of makes you realise you have so much to be thankful for that your being pretty self centred feeling sorry for yourself.

1000 THINGS TO DO BEFORE I DIE
This is sort of a bucket list but being such an indefinite time frame makes it a difficult list to compile. I have about five things written on the list. I suppose its due to the fact that i havent ever aspired to be famous, visit great places or meet important people. My daughter, on the other hand, is on her second bucket list. She has travelled to over 100 countries, visited most of the wonders and tourist sights in the world. She has sky dived, scuba dived, parasailed, bungeed, surfed, you name it………… just talking about it tires me out. At least with my wee little list I certainly don’t feel under any pressure to do anything weird and wonderful anytime soon.

DREAMS LIST
This is a black book I have. I started to write down dates that I had disturbing dreams – trust me, there are plenty. Eventually I began writing small snyopsis of the dream. I was trying to find some pattern. No pattern evolved over the five years that I religiously kept this list going. I did find though was pretty disturbing – things I was dreaming of were happening. So guess what I did? I listed this, every time something happened that made me think of a dream Id had I would note in the dream book in another colour under the dream. I wrote the date and what had happened. I think I began to scare myself so I stopped writing the dreams down.

ACTIVITIES AND
Sounds like my dream book In fact this was during the 10 years of my role of public relations practitioner (PRP) in the largest aircraft manufacturer of the southern hemisphere.
Communications, events planning, branding, visit groups to site and events planning all required the creative, stylish, organised approach of a talented PRP. The most important task though is to keep lists of activities planned to reach objectives From a tea party to planning of the Africa Aerospace and Defence show; from hosting student groups on factory visits right up to planning events for VIPs The key to a successful event is in the lists. One of the challenging events I planned was for a meeting between two heads of state. You cant even begin to imagine the amount of protocol that had to be adhered to in visits of this level.

AVON CALLING
I sell Avon products and have list of houses canvassed, catalogues delivered, returned, due, orders, customer details, etc. Thankfully I enjoy making lists.

DAILY THINGS TO DO
Many people make theses lists: daily tasks and shopping lists. Maybe I am a little neurotic here too, the shopping list is done under categories eg frozen food, tinned foods, fridge, freezer and fresh foods, cleaning products and personal hygiene.

BUDGETS
Budgets and finances are lists I really dont like making – they are normally pointless because just as I get everything balanced something happens that messes it all up again. This is a real prozac trigger type of list for me.

WELL USED MOVING LIST
One of the most well used lists I made was a list of things to be done before moving from South Africa to Northern Ireland.

HOUSEWORK TASKS
This has to be the most useless list I have ever made. A list of household chores, no one even cast a glance over it and I still struggle to do everything myself.

When I set out blogging I was in awe of some of the helpful bulleted blogs I came across. Lists so organised and well cross referenced, brightened up with relevant photographs. I was actually in awe of it all, still am.

If you go down to the woods today …..


HI, I am blogging under the pseudonym Cherryberrybear. I am a newbie blogger and look forward to your assistance along the way.
I am using this blog to learn and will be blogging about issues and subjects close to my heart. I am a very caring person with oodles of compassion and empathy for people.
I am very sensual, visual, audio, touch, scent and taste are the base of anything which rocks my world. Anything which appeals to my senses, moves me. These are things I know I can discuss easily with anyone. So I will discuss random things which stir me. Feel free to drag me off the soap box if I become too much.
The sense thats the most sensitive is the sixth sense…….a sense I believe I am in touch with.
Much of what I blog on this blog will be intangible, speculative and my personal opinion. I ask readers to keep an open mind, keep an open heart and remember that a sharing family is a caring family. So lets share our blogs and take from this what we can and give back the same or more.