Book Challenge: Book 5 of 30 - Book I Wish I Could Live In...

Book 5: Book I Wish I Could Live In.

I am one of those readers who can easily disappear into the book that they are reading, in fact this ability has been my saviour and has undoubtedly been the reason why I find reading so easy and enjoyable. I have sat at the dining table with the Bennetts, passed that Potter boy a vial of potion and watched from the jury box as Grisham's creations have pleaded their case. But I love nothing better than a story that starts out in our modern world before travelling to some strange and distant land. The book I have chosen here kept me turning the pages, completely oblivious to the outside world., transporting me to a world where I didn't want to leave.

'The Mirror Of Her Dreams' By Stephen Donaldson
(The first Mordant's Needs novel)

Description (courtesy of Play.com):
A lonely young woman feels isolated from the world: she uses mirrors to reassure herself that she is still alive - and then they change her life when, one night, a young man appears through the mirror and persuades her to come with him to his own land, where mirrors are magical gateways to other places. This strange new land is in conflict, for war has been foretold, but the king appears completely uninterested in the fate of the world. It is left to the Imagers, masters of mirrors, to try to decide the fate of the realm. Donaldson's firm control of the plot and his terrific characterisation make THE MIRROR OF HER DREAMS and the sequel, A MAN RIDES THROUGH, a story of great intrigue and psychological intricacy, filled with sexual tension, lust and love, as well as magic, battles and excitement. THE MIRROR OF HER DREAMS is a compelling read: a book that should be on every fantasy fan's shelf.

Photo - Sleepy babies... again...

Having a cuddle. Mummy and Daddy hiding just out of shot.

Let us all sing together... there were four in the bed and the little one said...

:) xx

Photo - Lazy bones...

You don't get much lazier than this... :) xx

Book Challenge: Book 4 of 30 - Book That Makes Me Cry...

Book 4: Book That Makes Me Cry

I loved to read as a child and I guess my passion for turning pages grow along side my bones. I would read everything and anything though it was only once I hit twelve that I started to read heavier themed stories such as Point Horror, Judy Blume and the book I am going to detail below. I remember reading it and feeling the depth of its unfairness, the hope, the love and ultimately the pain of its conclusion. It touched me and as a young reader it was my first foray into a book that actually brought tears to my eyes.

'The Boy In The Bubble' By Ian Strachan.

Description (courtesy of Amazon.co.uk):
Adam was born with a severe immune deficiency and he has lived most of his 15 years in an oxygen tent. Anne is forced to visit him with the rest of her class and chooses him as the subject of her school project - though she doesn't really know why.

(Unfortunately I was unable to find a lengthy description of the story but then it would be better to read it yourselves anyway to truly appreciate how great it is).

Musings - What we have left...

A couple of weeks ago I attended the funeral of a work colleague. In recent months I only saw her occasionally but I had promised to track her down so that we could meet after I had given birth. She passed away before she had the chance to meet my daughter and that breaks my heart slightly.

This young woman was only 31 when she died. Hospital tests led to an enforced stay, to several operations before she was resigned to the fact that she would never return home and that the end was now frighteningly close. I do not know the details of her passing, I guess it is not something you ask. But I do know about her send off and how warmed she would have been to see a full church in attendance.

Her favourite and most beautiful songs were played and a slide show of photographs from child to adult were shown. It was lovely, haunting and awful all at the same time. Tears were shed a plenty by all and everyone was left to feel the tragic truth that we are all fragile to the call of death.

Once I was home, and alone with my thoughts, I realised that Katharine is now relying on me to die in old age. Thoughts whirled... and I came to the slightly panicked conclusion that I need to make sure that those around me know enough of who I am to paint my picture to her if needed. It's frightening but if I begin to prepare journals, letters, stories am I merely tempting fate?

For now I will continue this blog in the hope that one day, hopefully with me still here, I can share it with her.

xx

Photo - Oh how she grows...

I took this photograph of Katharine on Wednesday (24th), it scares me slightly the speed at which she is growing. I fear I will wake up one morning, she'll be fifteen, i'll be forty five and I will find myself talking her out of a tongue piercing.

But for now I can continue to appreciate how cute she is. :) xx

Musings - Mama Kat's Workshop (26th May 2011)

Write a poem about starting over

New Start, New Heart...

I always took for granted the things I would get,
My dreams for the future, I figured, were an easy bet.
I had my man, my ring, my whole, almost, it was complete,
Just a child was needed to make our snapshot look neat.

We made the decision, a conscious, to try,
To conceive a baby, his laugh, my eyes.
But with each month that passed, unfulfilled, my heart would break,
I think, for I knew, it was not just my dream at stake.

It hurt to see hope in others when I had none,
For my glass once half empty was now dry as a bone.
We sought assistance, medical, but they found nothing amiss,
It was then that I knew, sobbing, my heart might not survive this.

With nothing to fix, to sort, to right,
It was straight to IVF, its procedures and the like.
The needles were not painful to skin, pricked, just to mind,
I prayed for strength from inside, deep, that I might find.

I ghosted through injections, retrieval, implantation with fear,
My, our, dream was so close but failure as equally near.
And failure won out, bled, broke the last heart slivers I owned,
Taking with it my breath, hope, reason, life again was postponed.

Then a miracle struck, Gabriel, Angel, his pity made a spark,
A beating took root, grew, something inside made its mark.
It fluttered, then kicked, then expanded and strived,
Katharine Lorelai, on April 6th, our daughter she arrived.

After over four years, sigh, thinking all was lost,
Here was our prize, pink, podgy, perfection embossed.
Bits of me, my man, our folks, our ancestors past,
Now our motivation for a future, hope springing at last.

So while once I had a crumpled, dented, shattered heart,
I look at my daughter and the healing starts.

xx