Tuesday April 8th
Arsenal V Chelsea - who'll win?
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Its 7.45am. Another day has arrived. Exactly one week ago today, at this precise time I was sat in this office doing exactly the same thing. I was writing the blog when the phone rang to tell me of my Father's death. That changed everything that day. However, it began just like any other day as this one has. I suppose it goes to show whatever plans we think we might have, we only play a very minor roll. The boss or whoever is up there in charge will pull all the strings.
Signs of spring are all around us. The cows have been turned out and are now grazing along the banks of the Silverburn. This means I have to be a bit more selective regarding my walks with Skipper along the Silverburn. Yesterday, Barbara saw her first swallow and on Saturday Chris put the new boat Silverburn in the water.
Last summer Dad came fishing with us for the first time since I owned a boat. He caught his first ever fish last August. He enjoyed it so much I was sure he would have been a regular with us this year.
As I write, Orry the parrot is singing his head off down stairs. He can now call Skipper by name and say he also belts out the first couple of lines of The Entertainer, The Woody Woodpecker song and, Laurel and Hardy. While this is going on, Skipper is bounding up and down the stairs trying to tell me its time for a walk. There is not much time to dwell on anything for long when you have animals around you. The blog, just like the animals has become something else to attend too on a daily basis. Last week I wondered if I would return to it and just as when tragedy strikes you don't stop feeding and looking after the animals, so it is with the blog. Your emails and support over the last week have kept me going. I have never lived without animals being around me and, right now I can't imagine not coming into this office each morning and not blogging.
I am now about to head off up the Silverburn with Skipper. It's a pleasant calm morning, my spirit is lifted a little and I have a thirst for life again. Father will never be out of my thoughts and we will return to stories involving Dad in the future. However, in order to bring closure to the events of Saturday, I close with the poem I read out at the end of his eulogy.
Do not cry, despair or weep.
I am at peace, and merely sleep.
I have not gone, so do not fear.
I love you still, I am still here.
You cannot reach, but I am near.
I can see, I am still here.
So talk to me and call my name.
I am still here, it's just the same.
Its only bones before you lie.
My spirit's free, it did not die.
Beside me there's an empty space.
Until you come and take your place.
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