Flickr and Instagram

So you know how when you share images on your blog from Flickr, it includes writing on the image. Writing that didn't used to be there before. Well you can easily get rid of it by deleting some of the code. As underlined in green below.

<a data-flickr-embed="true"  href="" title="Knee high grass..... Shoulder high weeds (not shown). Lawn mower day today"><img src="" width="640" height="640" alt="Knee high grass..... Shoulder high weeds (not shown). Lawn mower day today"></a><script async src="//" charset="utf-8"></script>

Also my Instagram images stopped going from Instagram to Flickr. I tried everything I could to fix it up, uninstalling and reinstalling here there and everywhere. Then I stumbled across IFTTT and this recipe. Perfect. Works a treat, I don't even have to specify that the Instagram photo goes to Flickr when I am posting. It is very automatic. I love it. And here are some options to import the ones that were missed. I stupidly imported ALL my instagram photos to flickr and then had to delete a whole pile. It looks like there is an easier way.

That's my lawn I didn't mow today. Stomach pain again. Bleurgh. Tomorrow is another day.

Knee high grass..... Shoulder high weeds (not shown). Lawn mower day today

the last day when everything was alright

I feel better today. Happier. Lighter. A pill the doctor gave me for my stomach has pretty much stopped it hurting. And that has made a big difference. Also I went to a hen's afternoon yesterday, without a hurty stomach, and much to my surprise had a really nice time. So there. Things can be better.

The other night I was looking through my photos. I do this often. Maybe it's not a good thing but I crave reminders of the way things used to be. Of being a family of three. It sometimes feels like it is slipping away. I don't want to feel sad all the time but I want to hold the memories close. To remember what it felt like to belong with Gerard, to be loved, to be held up, to do things and plan things together. And you know, to love someone back. Even if sometimes I wish I'd been nicer to him. Kinder and more appreciative.


Anyway, this day we went to the art gallery, to meet Gerard's aunt. It was a great day out. We saw modern art, we had afternoon tea together. There was clowning around. I sat and watched this pool of china plates in water. I loved how they collided and the sound they made. It was peaceful and mesmerising. Grace and Gerard loved the water wall. I love the water wall too. That pose of Gerard's is so him. It really was a very good day.

The next day which was Sunday, my stepfather came and found me in my study and told me that my mother was in hospital with suspected lung cancer. After that things got worse and better and then worse again. And now Mum and Gerard are both dead, gone forever. I'm glad that the last day before everything started to change was a good day. I look back to that day sometimes and there is so much to hold onto.



So I was trying to think of something to put in the card for my friend who is getting married. And I can't quite put my finger on it yet. When you lose part of your family I think you realise how big they were in your life and I want to say something that speaks to that but isn't trite or advicey. Something suitable for a joyous occasion. 

I'm not full of regret for things undone. When I look back at the photos it's clear that we did things together, family dinner, hanging out with extended family, camping, seeing friends, outings and just hanging out at home. The stuff of a life together, it is all there. I remember when Gerard and I were first together and in love, I had that big fear of losing him too. I dismissed this fear at the time, but even though I wouldn't want to have lived with that fear, it was actually quite rational. Love is a huge investment. You wouldn't not do it because the rewards are big too but the stakes are high. I envy couples who get to be together for fifty years or so. And yet, as I saw in grief group, the loss there when the first one goes, is often immense. I don't think many of us escape from grief forever. Not if we have loved ones. I still don't know what I'm trying to say but there you have it. The last day when everything was alright. (In this round. Everything will be alright again. I'm holding onto that.)


things I meant to write about

Trigger warning: a mention of suicidal thoughts

Snow. We went to the the snow at Lake Mountain with two other families. It was really, like really cold and kind of blizzarding. I surprised myself by making a egg and bacon pie like Mum would have made and a cake the night before. Another surprise was that I was able to hire warm but bulky snow gear in my size. However I sat in the car watching the snow fall while everyone else went tobogganing. It was six months to the day since Gerard died. Watching snow fall and thinking about how we never went to the snow as a family even though we talked about it a lot seemed an appropriate activity. I also remembered how in my twenties I used to go cross country skiing and how I took that level of fitness for granted.


Craft Camp. As I was packing to go to craft camp I didn't think I would be ready in time or that I would be able to extricate myself from the chaos that is my house. Luckily I had a lift, so I had to be ready. Craft camp was so good, it was nice to see everyone and I was moderately productive and made a doona cover and some pillow cases. I still feel like I am in a hole, behind a wall a bit. But at the end I kind of felt like I was back. It was a good feeling and I was able to hold onto it for a while.

Downer. I went to look at Mum's house which was being prepared for sale with Dad which was good. Then he started talking about my health and his concerns. I've put on weight and my health and fitness is not great at the moment but this talk made me feel worse. Much worse. By the time I got home and to the safety of my room I was a crying mess and my big thought was "why wait? I'll just kill myself now". That thought did pass and I am not troubled by suicidal thoughts in general but it was intense while it was there.

Sun. We went to visit the family in Queensland. It was wonderful. We went to the beach three times and I went swimming in the sea twice. I didn't have to cook or really make decisions and that was really restful. It's a bit intense being around three children all outside their comfort zones but I think the melt downs were fewer in number than before. And it was wonderful to see everyone. If only air travel was a bit cheaper so we could go for weekends as well.

At the doggy beach

Yet another downer. Came home to knee length grass and head high weeds and all the disorder I left behind. (Although coming home to Rupert was so sweet - he was looked after by a friend while we were away and she dropped him home before we arrived so there was a little dog at the window). I know what I need to do but just can't seem to do it. Although I have been moderately successful at walking more. But gees it's hard. And yesterday as hot winds blew around the house, I lost it. Lay on my bed and sobbed. Needing hanky after hanky and many glasses of water. I miss Gerard so much. It's a cliché but it really does feel like a part of me is gone, among other things it feels like the bit that starts things is gone. It's hard to explain the degree of distress I still feel from time to time. It feels like I should be doing better now and sometimes I am, but not all the time. Everything is broken and I don't know which bits to start fixing first. Or I know, but it doesn't happen. Because that starting bit being broken too.

Some hope for the future. I might have some work coming up. That would be good. I'm going to see the doctor about all my niggly health concerns and talk about reviewing my meds. The weather is better. I should be less hard on myself. It is only 8 months since Gerard died and about 11 months since Mum died. Neither of these make any sense to me and I miss them so much. Of course things will be shit, but there are better times to come. I just have to believe that.