Happy Adoption Day

This day three years ago I finally caught a little black kitten that I had seen cowering behind a tombstone by Cihangir Mosque. She had an appalling eye infection so big it looked like a peeled grape was hanging out of her socket. I remember reaching out and grabbing her and thinking if I can take her to a vet they will know what to do. The vet, a friendly fellow with black, cascading curls,  had confirmed she would lose the eye. 'Don't worry,' he had said.'She'll be fine back on the streets, just give it a week or two.' And I remember looking down at her, smaller than my hand ( which by the way is even smaller than Donald Trump's) and I knew I could never put her back on the streets.

Happy Adoption Day my Pirate you funny, little thing.

a grocery bag of love

I have not been happy of late. In fact, apart from when my parents visited, I cannot really remember the last time I was happy with a feeling of  peace in my heart. Maybe 2013 when D visited me in Istanbul and we sat in the Pera Palace and drank cocktails together. Or before then in Basel when the morning sparrows sang. The last months though it  seems to  have been very hard indeed. I have hardly any work (7.5 hours a week - unlivable in Italy), no running hot water for over week now and a gnawing feeling of anxiety and  a deep-seated sense of loss. So this morning I lay in my bed thinking whether I would even get up. Maybe just lie in my onesie all day until the cats began to chew off my toes. 

But then I made myself get up because I know that I must do so in order to keep moving. 

At about midday there was a knock at my door and one of my colleagues was standing there with two bags of shopping and a monumental hug. It is an incredible feeling to have someone turn up after nights of great blackness and terrible despair.  Just out of the blue. Letting you know you are loved. And my lesson from that is to people everywhere. Don't underestimate the power that you have to help people around you. For in that moment of great love I felt  like I was the luckiest person alive. So lucky I feel ready to face the full stream of a cold shower.

I have attached a picture of me and my mum on our recent holiday to England because it makes me happy to think about it and that is infinitely better than being sad. 

Forgotten how

It seems I have forgotten how to blog. Or perhaps I am too tired. Too defeated. I miss it though but how do you start writing when you have lost all your words. I go to bed thinking maybe tomorrow. But the next day comes and it is all just the same. I didn't realise I could feel this bad for this long.