Fresh

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The Zesty Sunday Smoothie:

-250ml Pure Orange Juice

-8-10 Strawberries (Chopped)

-1 Banana (chopped)

-Half a lemon (zested and juiced)

-Half a fresh orange (juiced)

The lemon and orange may seem like a strange addition but they give it a zesty citrus flavor that really livens up the taste of the other ingredients.

The ingredients were all brought fresh first thing this morning from my local farm shop and if they weren’t in a smoothie they’d be perfect for a pie or some lemon curd. Shopping locally means I can get food that’s freshly picked and ready to cook everyday (no defrost required).

Health is a really important part of my life but the revelation of learning to cook foods that are low in bad fats and which make my body happy has been a brilliant journey so far!

Happy Sunday,

Daisy

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Last Time I Checked

Sometimes life throws you a curve ball and you get sick. You get sick and you’re not sure what to do and suddenly everything seems unclear.

But one thing is clear to me:

Last time I checked I told someone I loved them because of everything they were. Infuriating, stubborn, unmoving but caring, helpful and someone I couldn’t live without.

Last time I checked I was with a guy who put himself on the line for what he believes in who has a job that makes him so much more than just my amazing man because of all the lives he has and will impact in the most positive way I can think of.

Last time I check I had a hand to hold that was strong even if words weren’t there and a face that always smiles when I cry because it doesn’t know what to say but wants to share a little ray of hope.

Last time I checked that man was in my heart as it beat, belonging to him were a world of hopes and dreams that I will never stop being amazed by, for as long as I have him, on the days when life throws a curve ball right at me.

My latest and first optimism in a while: Appreciate love, however you find it, however long you see it, because it’s the glimmer of hope in the darkest corners of our world and the reason so many hearts still beat.

Daisy x

Thawing

The frost held in the breeze and swept over my extremities like an unseen fog.

But between the hours of my waking and becoming awake i saw it recede from the land like a wave on the outgoing tide.

The cold did not concern me because it was met with the radiance and warmth of a newly thawing sun, waking up from what has been a very long winter.

I anticipate the days where the jumpers are shed, no more necessary knitted armor to defend from the cold.

Until then I watch the world from a window, the silence of it all: before humanity finds its feet again and disturbs the sounds of nature.

It’s and the world looks beautiful…no time to waste,

Daisy

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All Those Little Things

When the days seem a lot longer, the heat seems a lot hotter and it’s Winter,

when your hair grows longer and your cause grows stronger but you’re weaker,

when your eyes get wider and your mind it fills but sleep is something you have to will,

when the paper grows higher and the grades aspire but you’re tired,

The little things become your life.

And you’re grateful for them all.

But you hear those sounds and you see through your window,

there’s a world out there that you don’t quite belong to.

You’re alone again… with all those little things.

January

The Blues have hit,

I’m here but not really present.

This song echoes through my head with every action I’ve undertaken in the last week, and It’s especially fitting.

Thus, I note a temporary pause in comment other than to give you this,

Daisy x

M.e. (Simplicity sold separately)

I found myself truly upset reading an article in the Guardian today ‘

‘Chronic fatigue syndrome patients’ fear of exercise can hinder treatment’

and it has inspired this post.

As a woman I now have the ability to live daily life, but I’m aware my M.E. will never really leave me.

As a 14 year-old child my only fear was that I would never get better.

I have to be careful how much activity I undertake and quite frankly the term ‘exercise’ is a luxury I undertake as often as I can but the word itself does not really come into daily life.

This article may not seem negative but in its ardent simplicity it promotes a few terms that we should all be cautious in listening to.

First, to suggest a ‘fear of exercise’, even inclusive of graduated programs and CBT, is patronizing and hurtful to all and any sufferers of the condition. Exercise suggests running around but getting better for most of us involves a gradual increase in what I would much rather call ‘activity’. Anything from sitting up in bed to reading a book comes under various levels of ‘activity’. For myself, reading began as a high-level activity…It’s taken me over 6 years to say I can run again, my doctor told me I never would.

Fear, as my second point of consideration, is something those without M.e. may readily apply to us. The thing here is, they don’t know. Any fear is not of exercise but of relapse. Imagine one day you were walking to the shops and the next day you came down with the flu. Imagine that happening every time you walked a little too much or exerted yourself too much. Imagine all of the symptoms of flu and more being able to destroy months of your life. As severe as it sounds, this is the truth of it and so many people disregard that. For some, to encourage high levels of activity too soon is potentially very harmful so it is not that we are afraid of ‘exercise’, we are afraid of not being able to have bodily ‘activity’ anymore. By which I mean M.e. can get bad enough that you are bed-bound and in so much pain everything a normal person experiences in a day is gone.

When you finally build-up you celebrate but losing that fear of ‘not-being able to again’ is not an option or you’re right back at square one.

Maybe we don’t know what M.e. is, I do not presume to know even myself, I could only tell you it can be like a daily hangover some days and not others.

What we do know however, is that any fear can keep us going, can help us reach our goals. But that fear is never of ‘exercise’.

The sense arrives near the end of the article with ‘fear was understandable given the nature of the condition but that people with ME often did too much on days when they felt the symptoms less, hence the importance of experts guiding them through a gradual increase in activity.’

It is important to believe you can but when you have an illness which has no known cause but many symptoms you can be met with a daily barrel of words that hinder any hope such as ‘lazy’ or ‘selfish’. People who suffer chronic illnesses are neither and nor do they want to be. It doesn’t matter what you have, the fact is we are human beings whose day-to-day lives are affected by something we don’t even know about ourselves and maybe we can’t explain why we are in pain, why the light is too bright or why we don’t have the energy to do much, if anything at all, but we can explain to you, as over 250,000 people in the UK alone that this is very real.

I do not disregard that this study holds some merit, or the fact that there is a study at all with aims to finding some conclusion, what gets me is that there are too many articles promoting the labels ‘lazy’ with the terminology they use and not just in the newspapers but in numerous places online.

If you want to listen to anyone listen to me, or the lady with M.e. who responded to the article, or any one of the M.e. sufferers who will tell you what it’s really like and that our only fear is that the chronic illness that is not terminal will take away anything more than a mere existence.

Awareness goes along way so if you read this, please share it. If you don’t want to share it at least think about what I’ve had to say.

From an M.e. sufferer to a world of people who could learn something new about an illness so hidden,

Daisy x

I Have a Thing about “borrowing” Jumpers…

I normally give them back…eventually.

But I have this collection, in my mind, of all the jumpers I’ve ever worn that weren’t mine, all the coats draped around my shoulders and all the side-effects of the question “are you cold?”

Currently I’m sat in a fluffy coat, slightly over-warm that belongs to my Grandfather.

To think of all places he’s been, stories he’s heard and things he’s said in this coat is what makes me happy. I’ll keep it for an hour or so before returning it. But if it were anyone else I might not.

When I put on the jumper of a guy I’m dating with slightly pulled sleeves or signs of wear I’m putting on a piece of them.

When they disappear, even for a little while, when I pretend I’ve accidentally packed them or forgot where I put them it tends to be because I want to hold onto whatever it is that little bit longer as I travel.

I’m not a kleptomaniac. I collect and “borrow” stories not things.

I like reserved train tickets that nobody collects. Such a shame to waste something reserved especially for you.

I like to pick up big orange leaves that other people would never see.

I like to write about people I see on trains that are mysteries. I once thought a guy was a part of something really cool because of a logo emblazoned on his brief case….the actual results were so disappointing I won’t share them with you.

I guess I just like stories, other peoples lives, things that both have and haven’t been and things that aren’t mine that can belong to me for a little while covertly.

I also like that I’m sharing this with complete strangers,

Goodnight,

Daisy

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