I am studying Diabetes Management and have learned that I’m in a high risk group of becoming diabetic. It’s the South Asian group and I must aim for a waist measurement two inches less than the white population. Oh dear! I thought my BMI was ok but not so. Will endeavour to improve it and be careful re diet and exercise.

An e-book anthology available on Amazon Kindle. Published February 21 2015. Priced at £1.99. Definitely worth the money!

Women Who Write With Elves are Annis Farnell, I Elves, Enza Vynn-Cara, Julia Chalkley, Mairibeth MacMillan, Palo Stickland, R Cohen, RJ Ashby and Sue Cook.

This anthology includes a selection of writing by nine emerging writers scattered from Scotland to Switzerland.

From travelling in the dark tunnels of the London Tube

to holidaying on a sun-drenched finca in the Balearics,

fighting a battle in ancient Britain

to shopping for that last-minute Christmas gift,

the stories and poems offer their own glimpse into diverse worlds, real and imagined.

Grab a chocolate hobnob (or two) with your favourite drink and snuggle into a soft chair to discover how amazing life and love (past and present) can be.

I have just sent a submission to the Federation of Writers, Scotland. This is quite an achievement for this year. They published my poem (a sestina) ‘Response to a Damaged Child’.

The naked statue kneels in the glass case

with palms raised in blessing. My western eyes

avert their gaze, striving not to look

between his legs. I see, he is a saint

and thus has no sex. I should feel saved

but lack faith in these rites of respect.

 

‘Why is this person worthy of respect,

Mother?’ I see her hesitate in case

I’m not ready to hear how they were saved.

‘He wore no clothes’, she says, ‘With my own eyes

I saw them torn each day. He was a saint

because no-one could explain, only look.’

 

‘His clothes are new at night but look,

by morning they are torn! We must respect

this, for it is God’s will. He is a saint

who is sent to us from heaven. In case

we show disrespect we avert our eyes

from his nakedness; happy to be saved.’

 

‘And when he wandered the lanes, women saved

food for him from their meals and said, ‘Look,

he is sent from God with those kind eyes

so full of love for us. With all respect

we fed and cared for him, anxious in case

he should starve. Pray for us, our Saint.

He aged; we revered him even more, our Saint

 

For we saw our deeds repaid and felt saved

in spite of the strangeness of his case.

No clothes, no speech, no urge to eat; a look

from him and we bowed low with respect.

They were from another world – those kind eyes.

 

He died and that day we raised up our eyes

to heaven from this spot; wishing our Saint

might have a shrine where all could show respect.

And here we are.’ She thinks I am saved

now I’ve heard the story. She says ‘Look,

how crowds flock here each year to this case.

At this case prayers are sent to our Saint

who must look down as we pay him respect.

We who were first saved yearn for those soft eyes.’

We were so disappointed at Knidos as we anchored off to the left of a very busy pontoon. There was a flotilla in, but the bay was generally very crowded. And no-one smiles. it’s a serious business this cruising.

At 2.30 am, I heard much laughter coming from a dinghy. Though I couldn’t hear the words, it was English being spoken in drunken tones. Once they were on their yacht it was as if someone would end up in the water. in the morning the more sober amongst them must have sailed the boat away.

We crossed the gulf at its widest point, leaving Simi on our left. Winds favoured us and we anchored in the North Bay where it is shallow enough fro swimmers from the beach to reach Peperuka, which is what they do. We went to our usual restaurant for a pizza, but their machine was broken so we went to look at a fast food place that was mobbed. There was a queue with no empty tables anyway so we walked along to another place which looked promising. The food was nothing to shout about but we ate and returned to the boat.

   Next morning, I tried a new place on the harbour to access internet while Bob went for haircut. For around £10.00 he got a full beauty treatment. Hair, cut and waxed, from head, ears, between brows and nose – and – he was given a facial. Only in Turkey would he have put up with that! He looked polished and well-groomed, as he never has before.

  Bob’s first was a facial, while mine was swimming with no noodle! This bay is now called ‘No-noodle-Datca’.

On August 16th we had checked into Turkey in Datca and sailed to Orhaniye to meet Gurmeet and Roshan. They spent four nights with us on Peperuka – a great first experience of sailing for Roshan who will be ten next month.