In which I ramble, witter and burble.

Ray thinks he survived the "killer bird flu". He was running around like a headless chicken rearranging furniture and plants at midnight last night. And today we've been to the recycling centre, the supermarket, the garage and two beaches. I've been serenaded in the car and now I'm exhausted!

Physically I'm still not quite right but I'm getting there and more importantly I'm also finding hope. Just a little. And the occasional moment of pure joy. Mostly brought to me by my very own Ray of sunshine. I am starting to see the beauty of this world again and that means so much. I have my dark times, my crying days and my constant companion grief. But I don't believe we are meant to hang on to grief too tightly. I believe we must allow ourselves time to hit rock bottom but also time to heal and laugh and live.

I think of George every day and he is always with me. That hasn't changed, but the horror of the day we lost him is no longer just behind my eyelids.

I was so pleased yesterday to read that Antigone gave birth to her Perseus. And I'm so glad for myself that I am able to feel pleased for someone else having a baby when I'm not any more. Of course I'm hideously jealous, of course I am and I cried when I read it, but I'm also so very pleased that she got her live baby after loss and it gives me hope that I'll get mine. I'm also waiting for Newt to get on with it and evict her mini-newt. I need to hear good news these days. I don't listen to or read the news any more because it's all doom and gloom and mostly it gets me cross about how cheap life seems to be.

Anyway, Ray is snoring delightfully next to me on the sofa now so I think his excess energy is well and truly burned off. He stood in the middle of the living room last night, plant in one hand and lamp in the other and, wide eyed, said, "help". It's his turn to cook dinner but maybe I'll give him the night off. Oh I'm such a good fiancée.

Today I'm rambling.