Grief takes odd forms

Today, for me, it has presented as huddling on my bed, with tears dripping into the jar of brandied pears I am eating for breakfast. The salt is adding a certain boost to the flavour.


I am not sure what the flavour exactly is because I found it at the back of my pantry and it is at least six years since I made it and the original was meant to be brandy spiced vanilla peaches but brandy is the top notes. I had better stop eating because I have to drive in a bit. I wonder if it will give me botulism?


It’s fucking delicious, though, and I do feel a bit better so maybe worth it.


About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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