Why is it lately, in my life,
There seems such never-ending strife?
Returned from animal-farm-type drive
I thought I’d keep my blog alive.
But I had barely started out
When came a very sorry shout –
‘The fridge door’s fallen off its hinge!’
I knew it wouldn’t help to winge,
So I’ve spent ages to repair
The bracket at the bottom there
Which had succumbed to coastal rust –
No metal stuff here one can trust!
And printer/fax, I greatly fear
Has gone and stripped internal gear,
But though with agents I despaired,
By someone else it’s now repaired!
On childhood, I’d an essay planned
Which all emotions would have spanned,
Instead, with time now very few,
I’ll post some pictures here for you;
There’s just one problem to surmount –
Does baby-hood and lamb-hood count?
My essay was to speculate on whether even those of us who come from stable homes and backgrounds fool ourselves about having had a happy childhood? Childhood in itself is a time of great emotional highs and lows where small things can cause utter misery or great joy – and the extremes usually alternate many times during a day. Of course, some childhoods are genuinely miserable, due to adults or mishap. More usually it is due to adults; those of all kinds who are failing to honour the most important responsibilities of their lives. How many ‘good’ parents still fail to realise that such responsibilities are not limited to their own children, though?
I feel desperately sorry for kids with ongoing causes for extreme unhappiness. With the way childhood magnifies things, that must simply be dreadful.
© July 2011 Colonialist (Letterdash/WordPress)