oooh!...pretty leaves...
When I was eight, my mum had a major operation to remove a cyst from her abdomen. She spent a few weeks in hospital while I got looked after by a babysitter who wouldn't believe that I really did eat soup for breakfast every morning.

Anyway, I went to visit her in hospital a lot, and she said to me "You know, it's funny, they've given me about five shots of morphine". A few days later she came home.

She was still high/totally out of it for the next two weeks. She started writing wierd poetry, then every morning at the crack of dawn she'd make us all get up and go to the park where we'd collect all the autumn leaves that had fallen down. We would then shove these in the freezer, ready for the time when we would paint them, and then iron them on the ironing board.

Now whenever she starts to write poetry, I get worried....
( Hampster Squared has stuff at www.tilla.co.uk, Thu 15 Dec 2005, 13:57, Reply)