Like the end of a relationship, the death of a loved one, moving house or location after a long time in one place, or just the end of a great holiday when you’ve had fun and felt exhilarated by the location, the person or people you’ve been with, and the food and wine, the day I finish writing a book feels much the same. A feeling of loss, and a sense of the end and not sure what’s coming next. And that’s where I am right now.
images-99I’ve always believed you should follow your dream. I found this blog post, Six reasons you should never give up on your dreams by Gurbaksh Chahal, an excellent explanation on why you should never quit.
I write because I want to. Short of cooking and eating good food, pottering in my garden, and seeing my family and friends, there is nothing else I’d rather do. When I’m not writing for any length of time, I miss it, and yearn to get back to it.
After seeing the heart-rending images on TV this week of the many innocent civilians who’ve had their lives destroyed by the endless war in Syria, I posted several tweets calling for an end to wars.
It’s tough being an optimist these days. Good news is scarce. War, poverty, malnutrition, and disease affect many. Seven hundred and eighty-three million of the world’s population has no clean water, and almost two and a half billion live without adequate sanitation. Six to eight million people die annually from the consequences of disasters and water-related diseases.
Many are ready to criticise social media. Some of it justified, like when twitter and Facebook trolls hurl abuse at someone simply because they don’t agree with the person’s behaviour, principles or belief; but most of what social media has given us is positive. This week we saw it at it’s best.
The night I stopped in Agios Psária, I dined alone under a eucalyptus tree. I ate fried calamari, followed by the freshest sea bass I’ve ever tasted, grilled to perfection, and accompanied by chips and a tomato and basil salad. Afterwards, I ordered an espresso and a small glass of Metaxa, the local fiery brandy.
The wind howled like a wolf. Most of the sparsely scattered trees had been uprooted and blown over the cliff. The far-off homestead–the only other building for as far as I could see–had its roof torn off, the remnants scattered over the craggy ground. Sheep hunkered down by the rock outcrops, trying to shield themselves from the storm’s worst.
The Ebola outbreak in West Africa is one of the deadliest the world has ever seen. Right now 2.5 million children under five are in danger and they need help.
15 billion dollars will be spent in the US and UK today, mainly by consumers buying non-essential items. If the same amount was donated to the Ebola crisis it could buy
Often, I look out of my window and watch the wind whistling across the rocky headland, wishing I were one of the many seagulls gliding high in the sky, diving suddenly to catch a fish glistening in the pounding, black sea below.