Gilly Mbachu Goldsworthy is a mum to two kids that are supposed to be grown up and mma to a five year old granddaughter and a one year old grandson. None of that means that I am grown up though! I love writing – travel and quite edgy fiction – and being an OU student for a degree which remains to be seen. What I do best though is counselling; I’ve been privileged to work with many people through big changes.
A couple of months ago I read that the Devon Air Ambulance were having a fund raising day, dragon boat racing on the river Exe. When I found out that a team from the hospital where I work were entering I decided to pop down to watch a little.
Here are some of the hospital team.
The opposition are behind
Heading for the start
Team RD&E have a slight edge
The second heat is over and the RD&E are in second place by just four seconds.
Time for a motivational pep talk!
And the next team heads off to the start point.
It was great fun to watch but I didn’t have to time to stay for the final results, I was heading east to see Scarlett and her mummy and daddy. Well done to everyone who entered and helped to raise funds that will keep our Air Ambulance flying.
Ben Huberman at WordPress asks us to post a nighttime photo for this weeks challenge. I haven’t really got very many, I’m to lazy to use a tripod and I don’t take my camera out much at night. I did find this one though, taken at a Riad in Marrakech a few years ago.
Driving across Dartmoor the other day I squinted, not quite believing what I saw. I’ve often seen a solitary highland cow but never a whole bunch of them together and right by the side of the road. I slowed down onto the verge, expecting them to get up and walk away but they didn’t. I opened the car window and started snapping but couldn’t get a clear view so I got out. Again, I thought they would disappear or more likely, make me disappear!
Instead they let me get to within six feet of them and I could probably have got even closer but didn’t want to push my luck.
Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more.
This doesn’t need to be a depressing exercise; you can write about that time you lost the three-legged race at a picnic. What’s important is reflecting on this experience and what it meant for you — how it felt, why it happened, and what changed because of it.
Today’s twist: Make today’s post the first in a three-post series
Violet Elizabeth was just sitting there when they crashed into her on the road. It was noon on one of those late winter days when you wake up and find the ground white with snow. We can’t drive on snow here in the UK, I confess it applies to me as well it happens so rarely in the south west of England. An inch of white stuff and I have this awful dilemma in my head. If I drive and the snow gets heavier I could be stranded somewhere. There could be an accident. If I walk I could fall on hidden ice and break a leg. I think perhaps I had a bad fall as a child that has affected me, or seen someone else fall. My grandmother had a fear of slipping on ice and hurting herself, it could be that causing my irrational fear.
On the March morning, there was an accident. The snow had fallen in the early hours, it must have thawed slightly before freezing again making the road treacherous, especially on the bend outside where violet was waiting.
My neighbour witnessed it from her window, and thinking it was a hit and run, she rushed out. Violet was ten years old.