The Musings Of A Bohemian Frog
I roamed the plains with the elephants and lions as a child, danced with Masai, ran with flamingos, sat through exorcisms, dangled from a billboard, crawled through mountain caves, got completely lost in Spain while on a pilgrimage alone, got locked in an alpaca paddock, jumped out of a plane to tandem skydive and questioned
As a child, my parents insisted that I sit at the table (rightfully so) and eat whatever was placed in front of me, no questions asked, and I wasn’t allowed to leave the table before anyone else nor leave even a single grain of rice on my plate. Sound familiar to any of you? Both
For those of us who have lost a dear one at some point or another, the holidays are the most difficult to get through. I still can´t get over how much I miss my parents each Christmas, and it has already been three years. But this year, there is somebody else I miss terribly: Champagne.
A couple of weeks ago I treated myself to an amaryllis plant. There is a small flower shop right at the train station where I catch my train to work on a daily basis. I was feeling particularly down that day and decided to walk in, since they were selling the autumn and winter plants
I belong to a support group for divorced women, designed specifically to help rebuild life as a single person. It took me a long time to join up, as I am not a fan of support groups in general, simply because it is not my nature to share my troubles in a group. As I
Click HERE for the article before proceeding. Emotional Abuse (emotionalen Missbrauch / maltrato emocional) is much more difficult to identify and accept than physical abuse, and when it happens within a friendship, things turn into a huge mess and everyone goes ballistic. This blog entry is both difficult and painful to write, since it is
My Aunt Rosemay passed away this morning in Los Angeles, CA, and I am at a loss for words. I hadn’t seen her in decades, and we were never close, but she was family, and that is all that matters. There is not much I can tell you about Aunty Rosemay, but she taught me
It is almost inconceivable to me that today marks Daddy’s third death anniversary. Three years. Time has flown bye and I feel as though he is still very much around. Perhaps I can no longer pick up the phone and call home to find out what he is up to today, or listen to his
For the lives we lost 18 years ago, For the traumas of the family, friends, and colleagues that have not healed, For the heroes that emerged, For the constant pursuit of peace.
I write this with great difficulty today, simply because my shoulder is absolutely killing me. The first batch of therapy sessions is over, and the healing process is well underway, albeit the excrutiating pain. The physiotherapist did warn me that the worst is yet to come, and that is a good sign. The trouble with
