Is you is, or is you ain't, my baby?

         This title was an old song by Loius Armsrong, I believe. A very catchy little number all about love. Always a favourite topic with writers, whether of songs, books, or films. Something that fills the newspapers, and the magazines with stories, and gossip. Often about the rich, and famous. As well as the not so well known, but perhaps more notorious. Who loves, whom, how much, how little, why, when, and likely the photos to prove it. 

           Lurve... the Barry White kind. Romantic settings, deep voice, crooning, setting the mood for candlelit dinners, seduction, and silky underwear....and nowadays, that's more than likely, just his, rather than hers. Love, that emotion which, makes the heart beat faster. Couples, with hearts, souls, and ultimately bodies, entwined. Soul mates, relationships of the closed kind, are both a minefield, and flower garden. Always, it is a subject that fascinates. Perhaps even, fascinates, and appals at the same time. It can be scary , can't it girls, maybe guys too. Who knows. I'm a girl...

            It is something, we supposedly, fall into, or fall out of. Search for, hope for, or avade. What ever action, or emotion is involved, it is seldom anything small. It hits you, like a bolt out of the blue. Or, it's loss, leaves you broken, and devestated. People become obsessed, or bereft. It changes your life, and sometimes, destroys your life. It is then, nothing small, or insignificant. Something to take care of, and just 'take care.'

             I don't know if the modern girl looks for a mate, but those of my generation, and many others through the ages, certainly did. During the ages when women were chattels, the property of their father, and then of their husband, it was a must. How else, could they survive? Marriages were often arranged, love not being a requisite, assuming it would grow. Otherwise, well, there are other criteria, just as important. Such as supporting each other, and raising a family together. Naturally, there were almost invariably families. Birth control being almost unknown. Or very primitive, to say the least.Aren't  children a physical manifestation of the love between two, people. Or, am I being a silly romantic. Is it really nothing like that..I prefer the hearts, and flowers version myself

             Life was much different for women way back when. Love, though, went on much the same. Nothing stops love does it, striking unexpectedly, as it will. As you might imagine if it were really Eros, and his little arrow making mischief. Perhaps in the past, society made some of these relationships more difficult, with constraints of class, or culture. Woman today, being more outspoken, and the choices women have today, are greater. So make the most of it girls. Many woman fought tooth, and nail to give some of those freedoms to you. 

            In the last century, most women could not work, were simply not allowed to work. There were few jobs they could actually do. The great majority were not educated, to even a basic standard. The better off families, were often no better. Those that did educate a daughter of the house, often had narrow views of what was appropriate. There were many subjects considered improper for a female to study. It gave them ideas beyond what they were best suited to....which, of course was taking care of husbands, and children. Some men actually believed women were lesser creatures, docile, smaller brian, less able. Boy, did they have a wake up call coming.

             Ooops, there I go again. Off on a tangent. Love.....concentrate on love....

            Of course, we all know that through the ages, strong women rose to the top at regular intervals. Sadly, too many needed the association, and protection of a powerful man. A sign of the times in which they lived. Some, like Eygypts queens, or Europes royalty, inherited positions of power. Where they ruled with all the passion, and coldness of any man. A few, like the pioneer women, fought for their freedom, to make their own wealth, in a mans world. Again, with only a few occupations open to them. Still, woman have equal, if not superior brain power to men. Something, that remains an emotive subject. We know they don't have the same physical strength, but with many determined, and athletic woman, they have achieved extraordinary levels of fitness. Who knows where that may lead in the future, we are comstantly evolving. Women's high intelligence quota, is a fact! If men wish they could not only dispute, but disregard, that is their problem. It is far easier to vilify, and bully those less intelligent woman, to assert their superiority, in well tried ways. However, sexism has far less of a hold that's previously. Which, is a good thing, and only right.

            Even for LOVE, and its continuation, I am all for a matriarchal society. Those were the societies that worked, and worked well. Who knows, perhaps I feel another blog coming on...

            Today, of course, women have equal rights in many areas. There are still anomalies, unequal pay, the glass ceiling, and they still bear the children, which gives them both advantages, and siadvantages. However, we also have house husbands, modern men, and a society which verbalises equal opportunities. Even if it does not always produce it for all, it's trying.

             For me, on a personal level, love is not just romantic hearts, and flowers. It is two people being faithful. It is about loyalty, and reliability. Being able to trust someone, what they say, what they do, what they intend. It's about two people being there for each other...in every way, understanding each other, and doing the best they can for the other. Over all, and under all... Underpinning the bridge between male, and female, is LOVE.

              all I can say, is long live love...

               May you have your share of it.....

Insomniac?

          Here I sit, in bed awake, well past the witching hour. Another interminable night. Unable to get comfortable, unable to sleep, unable to keep still. I am really glad I am not the person sleeping with me. I am tired of being unable to sleep, tired of trying to keep still, relaxed, when I really want to thrash about, rather tired of being me. I know part of the reason I can't sleep, but it helps me not at all. In fact, I might as well stay awake now. As it will be time to get up, and get ready to go, in about an hour, and a half. Oh dear, it's going to be a long day too, being so tired, and so much to do.

         By now, not only am I exhausted, irritated, and frustrated. I am also aching. My hips ache, my knees ache, and my shoulders. In fact nearly all the bits that bend, are having a whinge. Having already taken pain killers a couple of hours ago, there is little else I can do. I could get a heating pad, if it weren't securely shut away in a suitcase in the bottom of the wardrobe. If I weren't staying at my brothers house, where everyone is asleep, and I can't start making a noise. I am doing my best to keep still, and silent, in a space not mine. I could have a shot of brandy, that helps sometimes. Especially on those nights when all else fails, but I have none left. I could rub some deep heat, or the like into the joints, but that too, is nowhere I can find it. You can see why I am out of patience, and frustrated. Nothing, is as, or where it should be. In fact, I have had it! Game over, I lost! what a shame. Never mind. Sometimes, what you can't change, you have to live with. Bad luck me...

       You see, I only arrived this afternoon. With just enough time to unpack everything, and repack some stuff afresh, in another suitcase. That's  because, this morning, in about an hour now, I am off to have a weeks break, away. In the sun, no work to do, no one to visit. Only lazing by the pool, in the sun, and eating good food. Bliss.....That is, of course, if I can get through this night without smothering myself to death, through pure stress, and tiredness. I thought that sitting up, and taking my mind off not sleeping, and the pain, might help. Unfortunately, everything is aching bit to bust. I feel as if I might spontaneously combust if something doesn't change soon.

          This night brings to mind, the many other nights when sleep eludes me. I am an insomniac. As was my father before me, and my son after me. With a good smattering of friends, and other family members similarly afflicted. It is not a pleasant way to spend the night. Although, of course, it can be, if you have the full run of the house, and your stuff around you. Then, it can be broken into sections. Trying to sleep, taking remedies, when you can't get off.  Or, a wander about, or a cup of tea, a. Hot pad to relax you. Even a bit of TV, or, the Internet without fear of waking others.

The trouble is, tonight, my not sleeping, is too restricted. Too bound by having nothing around me, handy to help me cope. Not to pass the time, or to help me sleep. 

           Well, to nights problem is just about solved, as I have to be on the move, and on my feet soon. Getting ready to travel, in about half an hour. From here, in the car for an hours journey to the airport. Thence, to the park, and ride, a shuttle bus to the terminal, check in, and wait for the plane to load, and take off.  Hopefully, I can then sleep for a few hours.

           That's if they don't keep waking me up to eat, or babies crying, or duty free. As I am sure you realise, I shall not be the happiest passenger flying out this morning...

           Sleep well, everyone. As for me, I am pinning all my hopes, on a comfy lounger, in the sun..hope I don't snore...

Cooking up a storm...

      In recent weeks, where I am staying, I am the main cook, and bottle washer. No, thats not strictly true, because ' he, who cooks,' does not clean up, or, in my case, 'she.' It seems to work well, at least nobody died. Or, even got ill, that I know of. In fact, I had very appreciative eaters, with lots of nice comments, and clean plates. Mostly, I am guessing, because they were all tired, and hungry.  Anything edible would have worked. Food, though, it's such an emotive subject isn't it. It would hard for anyone to cook for me, I know. Mainly because my appetite fluctuates, and what I fancy does too. I like to snack a lot. To have things from the cabinet, as they say in cafes, or even entrees. The snackie end of the meal choices. I must admit too, by the time night comes, I am pretty much past big meals. That's been the big change here. Everyone eats late at night. Surprisingly, so do I!

        I haven't done that on a regular basis since I lived in Nashville, U.S.A. There, the whole household would go, en masse, to the all night supermarket at some time between midnight, and two a.m. After which, the shared meal would be cooked. I don't even remember going to bed. Although I suppose we must have done. We all began work again early the following day. I did enjoy the late night shopping, wandering the aisle, looking for nice things, or bargains. Being called Ma'am by the staff, such a nice habit. What nice American boys they were. It was so much easier to get through the checkout too. No such sessions here, although there are now 'all night' supermarkets. So, in theory, you could do exactly that. Thinking about it, it's the same mindset. People working hard all day, coming home at 6 or 7, or more, and needing some time to change, have a drink, and relax before eating.

       Never mind, you gradually get used to any change, except if you're dead.

       That's funny, second mention of death in relation to food. Now, what would Freud make of that? Well, I do have a sensitive digestive system. I know, I know. Too much information. These people that can eat anything though, how lucky is that. I have a Mother like that. Nothing upsets her. She can eat anything, even though she is knocking on a bit now. Her ability to digest anything with no ill effects, remains.

       Speaking of people who are able to eat anything, brings to mind dieting. Well, almost everything brings that to mind. As someone who has battled that particular battle for years, I can tell you...nothing ticks you off worse than someone saying 'I can eat anything, and never put on a pound'. Hate them with a passion, no really, I could. Then, there's me, who eats like a sparrow, peck, peck, hop hop, and still have to do without things I love, or normal sized meals. My doctor said once, "but you would be one of the fortunate ones in a starvation situation. Your body would outlast most of the others." Sorry? Is that supposed to be an asset?

         Not fair when you love good food. Bear in mind, I said good food! None of this McDonald's, Chicken hut, or mr curly white beard, whatever it's name is chicken, and chips.

        I'm not very fond of chicken. Nasty scrappy creatures they are. That thing about the pecking order of chickens is true you know. They really do peck, and abuse the weaker, and will kill the weakest, no sweat. I know, I've seen it. It was gang warfare, and bullying at its worst. Assassination really. Not a good society to be part of, chickens. Be glad you are not of that race. I am, very glad, I wouldn't make a good victim, too much bullying as a child perhaps. Seeing that, left me with an aversion to the nasty fowl. This often means, even though a chicken dish looks, and sound wonderful on a menu, I can't eat it. I don't want to eat it,  I just can't. Turns the stomach. See, told you I have a delicate digestive system.

        Kinda lost my way here, talking of those raggedy, scratchy, bug eyed chickens. Ugggg.

        Back to cooking, I'm not a recipe kind of person to follow a careful plan. I'm more the 'I liked that dish we had in...., what was in it?' So I add a bit of this, a bit of that, taste, try some more, and there you are. Why, I don't even give it a fancy name. Me, who loves words, never try to think of something inventive as a handle for it. I say, it's a pork surprise, or a mystery spicy lamb. Or, it's an, all sorts dish, leaving the food to speak for itself. Neither can I ever do it exactly the same again. Not that it matters, because no one remembers exactly what it was like the time before. 

          A very laxidaisical way of cooking isn't it. I don't remember the last time I weighed anything. It doesn't matter does it, food should be fun shouldn't it? For the cook as well, surely. If I was a drinker, I could easily be one of those people you see in films. Pottering around a gleaming kitchen. With no shoes on, and a glass of wine in their hand. As they whip up a gourmet dish. There is never any mess going on is there? No bits of wrapping, or vegetable peelings, or bits on the floor. Mine are not up to that standard anyway. I am just lucky that the extremely hungry seem to gravitate to my circle. People who eat everything with great gusto, even the dishes that don't quite turn out as I hope.

          You see, all you need in life, is confidence, and a bit of luck, and Bob's your uncle! Well, he was actually. Uncle Bob, I mean. He was a farmer, like my maternal grandfather, another Bob. Now, those meals, cooked by the quintessential farmers wives, when I was growing up, were large. I mean really large. Those were ladies who knew how to stretch food. They could feed any number of people without batting an eyelid. A bit like I prefer to appear to the diners around me at the moment. A lady writer, of leisure, who whips up tasty dinners in time for them to appear....

          Now, you writers out there, have the lie to that don't you? Of course you do, but we can spin a good yarn can't we.. 

          After all, aren't we supposed to create a believable illusion, yep....that's exactly what I do.

          You're coming to dinner when......oh how wondeful. No, no trouble, no trouble at all....

          

I got those b b b b b, builders blues....

        Currently I am staying at a friends house. In a country where I am no longer resident, only a visitor. It's a home from home, but due to the nature of this trip, is a little strange. Even though I am very lucky to have such a good friend here. In addition, I get to see her every day, which hasn't happened for many years. We get to share a little of what happens in our respective days. Lovely, after a long period of not seeing her at all. You know how fate, and decisions, causes lives to diverge. At present, we spend the day apart because she is at work, and I work...wherever I choose to sit and write, or relax. I am, after all, on a holiday, of a sort. In between 'mother'duties, for my own mother. Then, decorating, and a few other commitments. Some of which, is merely forms, or information gathering. The amount of paperwork required for modern living is crazy, and never ending.

         Naturally, we share what domestic chores we can, it's only fair. In fact the whole household helps out. It's like a happy house of flatters, not that I have lived in one. It's as I imagine it to be. I like to help where I can, it all quite casual, and pleasant. Pottering around her house, and her garden very happily. Or, I would be, were it not for something I will speak of later. Although being a guest, I have to back off when it comes to general organisation of the household. My friend, is super organised, with these lists everywhere. Which, seems a very efficient way of organising yourself. Not that I could ever reach such heights.

          In the mornings, I tidy what she doesn't have time to. Although cleaning per se, is a bit of a lost cause, with the builders going full steam ahead every day. Although we do what we can, despite the inevitable dust. It's all very comfortable. As for cooking, I cook what she leaves for me, unless her daughter decides do to it instead. We all have our own way of doing things, but thats fine. Besides which, I am happy to fit in, and make her day a little easier. All too soon, I shall be back in my own life, with all the duties myself. So this, is a nice change, and we have fun. When we are together, we laugh a lot.

         I mention this routine, only because some of it, the day, the routine, is more difficult than others to cope with. Well, you will perhaps have read my blog, 'a circular saw, in the morning'. In which, I tell of my frustration at the energy, and noise of the builder and his tools. Especially so early in the day, when sloths, such as myself like to be at rest. Even if not actually sleeping. Having to cope with M.E. as I do, brings it's own set of problems. My nights are not always good, and my mornings begin slowly, as everything gradually grinds into gear again, hopefully. I am not a late sleeper anyway. If it's gets to be nine a.m. then, that's the limit. Nothing would keep me in bed after that, I would have to be dying, or something equally drastic. 

        Normally by then, I will have had a cup of tea, and written a couple of pages. Or, answered some social networking. Words of some description, are always my first thoughts of the day. I can't wait to get started. As my brain runs far earlier, and faster, than my body in the mornings.

         O.K. stage set, our favoured routines, set up, ready. Often by now, half past seven, some of the household will be gone, others getting ready to do so. We are five persons at the moment, soon to be six. I, out of consideration, and my own lethargy, stay clear of the bathroom until everyone is out if the house. All good, so far!

         Here though, comes the fly in the ointment! The builder... That man with the white van, full of noise. It's white metal casing wrapped around himself, and his interminable tools. His horrid, noisy tools, which, no doubt, he loves. His hammer, his saws, his plaster boards, his dust, and his ineffable energy, and pure persistence. From the time he arrives, often just before half past seven, there is not another minute of peace, and quiet. Not in this house, or around this house. He is like a crazed hamster, on a wheel. Arrrggg. Bang, bang, saw, saw, boom, boom, boom...CRASH! Before it begins again. Inside, banging, outside, sliding doors, dragging materials, banging, sawing. Inside, dragging, banging, hammering, even more frantic hammering, CRASH! Slide.......bang. As I try to slide, in my wooly dressing gown, without being noticed, into the end bathroom.

           Oh my god, I'm so tired of it, so depressed because of it. Soooo weary....The noise, the never ending noise. Doesn't he need a tea break, to go get materials, to talk on the phone...anything! Just give me peace, I need peace....and quiet. I really need some quiet at home, where I sleep. Ohhhh, please be quiet.

          Of course it doesn't happen. I drink tea in noise, get up, in noise, I shower in noise. I dress, make bed, tidy, hang washing, all in noise. The whole world is noise. It's a way of torturing prisoners isn't it? Subject them to consistent, non stop noise. I'll talk...I'll tell you anything... I'll break, I'm ready to break....on the edge, borderline crazy. What would he think if I ran from my room, screaming? I bet he would merely continue hammering, and building. He must be used to crazy customers. Pulling down, and building. It's his job, it's his living, it's who heeeeeee is.

         Instead, I will continue my day, as if all is peaceful. Good morning Mr builder! Nice day! you look busy! As if it's all a surprise to find him there, in the corridor out side my door, and everything else in my life is wonderful.

          Perhaps. I am already crazy, not just on the turn. Rationally, I understand this work must be done, needs to be completed before Christmas. Rationally, I am happy for my friend to get these renovations done. Rationally, I realize I am lucky she even considered having me here when everything is so busy, so hectic. I wanted to be here, and she went to extremes to make it beautiful, as comfortable for me as she could. It is the measure of her friendship towards me, and I assured her the noise, and the dust didn't bother me one iota.

         I did not lie, honestly...the concept, the process, the upheaval really does not concern me. I suppose it's the ambiguity of my head. It's just the constant noise, on my too sensitive ears. Did you know psychic people have sensitive ears? Well, I do at any rate. Very sensitive...

         I am also sensitive enough to know I never want her to read this. Or she might feel bad. Something I would hate... The chances she will, are small. Apart from that, a writer always dramatises situations. She will understand that. Perhaps that's what I am...A drama queen! I know of some who would agree.

         Ahhh, another good excuse there....good morning mr builder... Lovely day! Keep smiling.

         As for those b b b b b's  in the title. Well, you can fill in the blanks. I could, easily...

          B b b b but it would be rude!

          

Friend, or foe...love, or lack

       Friends.....where would we be without them. It's a truth we should all recognize. We all need a good friend at some point in our life. Just as much as we ourselves need to be a good friend to those we love. A real friend is loyal, a real friend is true, a real friend can be depended on. To be there for you, when you're down. To laugh with you, when you're up. We all hope for good friends don't we? Of course we do. Not the sort who gossip about us, or let us down either.

      How good a friend are you? Mmm. Well perhaps that question can come later. First of all, let's see how friendships work. We know they can begin anywhere, anytime, any how. Even, between any age groups. Some of my best friends are in a completely different age group from me. Viva la difference, I say. In the same way I believe it's better for us to forget about how old we are. I believe we should also forget how old our friends are. Or better still, never give it a thought in the first place. So many other aspects are so much more important when making friends. 

       To attract a friend, or be attracted to them, there is usually something in common between you. It could be you belong to the same, club, have the same hobby. Maybe have the same job, or work for the same firm. Perhaps you are both parents, your children going to the same school. Or you live in the same street. Let's face it, the possibilities for striking up a friendship are endless. It could be you just like the look of each other. In exactly the same way, you might notice a member of the opposite sex. Something drew your attention to them, and something in them, spoke to you. 

          Next come speech doesn't it? You cannot keep smiling at each other, and say nothing. Although, at that point, you might decide, no, maybe not. They are idiots, or loud, or something else rubs you up the wrong way. You are cautious, or should be. For there are many more false freinds, than true. If you both decide to meet again, or speak more, then you are on your way! At that stage it is an embryonic friendship. You may never be more than aquaintances. Or, the routine of meeting, speaking, exchanging ideas, or sharing the routine, and events of your life will determine if you become closer.

         Often, its time....A friendship takes time to grow. It's more than a five minute thing. It's like a beautiful garden, you plant little seeds, and watch how they grow. You nurture them, care for them, and enjoy the wonder of them. If you care for each other properly, then what you build together can last for ever. True friendships can be stronger than marriages, last longer than any serious relationships.

A loyal friend will always want the best for you. A true friend will always tell you the truth, in a way you can handle. Will pick up the pieces, when you can't. Support you, when you no longer can support yourself. Either physically, or emotionally, a real friend will help you survive. Will listen to your worries, to your sorrows, and joys. To commiserate, or make you laugh. When all you want to do is cry. They never tell your secrets, nor are indifferent to your needs.

          I have such friends. They are few, but like diamonds without price. They helped make me who I am today.

          I thank the Universe for allowing me to find such friends. May I be blessed with their friendship for many years to come. May you too, be as lucky as I.

          Contact your friends today, and tell them how much you appreciate them.....remember,  they need cheering too.

Sport, sporting, or what?

       As I sit here, alone..somewhat hiding from the rest of the household. Who, lets face it, mainly consists of no more than two persons, plus me of course. Sometimes, only two persons total. Sometimes, four, or five, it depends on where I am. Or, if at home, who is visiting. I love people to come, and stay. OK , today there are three total, one hiding, myself. The reason I have separated my self from the other two, is sport. In particular, rugby, NZ all blacks, versus France. There is some information I cannot avoid being party to. Especially when both of the other people watching the game on TV, at eight thirty in the morning, I might add, are (slightly they say) hard of hearing. Only so hard of hearing that I can still hear the game from the bedroom, where I have removed myself. That's how slight it is. Ahh well, must not spoil their illusions.

       I could be polite, and sit there, make myself watch the game. Which, would be a big waste of time really. They are quite happy there together, shouting at each other, watching the TV. Not shouting because of deafness, you understand. Still, we won't go there, will we. 

       Instead, I first repaired to the bathroom, where I gave my much neglected hair a treatment. Throughout these last few months of travelling, my hair, has pretty much managed as best it could, alone. A bit like me this morning, you might say. Am I annoyed by their sport obsession, not at all. I only like to score a point, where I may. The noise level from the TV is rising more by the second, I can only assume scores are changing, or the end is in sight. It could be, it been on 'for ever' already.

         Sport, with sport mad parents, was something I grew up with. They watched it all, soccer, rugby, tennis show jumping, athletics, everything. As you can imagine, being a typical daughter, you join, or reject don't you? Guess I rejected, refused to watch, or become interested in any of it. It may be juvenile, but I still feel the same. Hence, my absence this morning. Do I regret making this my life's missing link...NO...NEVER. There are so many more interesting things to do. Like my hair, and this blog. As there is no Internet connection here, I can't do much more than prepare the blog. But that's ok with me. For now! 

        After the big surge of noise. It has all gone quiet out there, seems NZ All Blacks won. Just...

       I must admit, I ventured out of the back of the house once. It was to see the Hakka performed at the start of the game. Although it was a new version, it is still good. What can be wrong about a group of hyped up, hunky, young men, shouting their challenge, and showing their muscles to the other team. Nothing at all, is the answer! I loved it, made me very happy, got the adrenalin flowing, as I went off to do other things.

        Now, this blog is finished, the game is finished, band my hair is finished...yeah.

        Off now to get my coffee fix, guess the others will be up for it too. We do have some things in common. 

       Have a good weekend...

Another day, another dollar....really? Are you sure?

         Yes, it's true, work is the driving force behind many people's daily lives. More often than not, out of necessity. After all, we all need to eat, to pay the bills, and to have some relaxation time. How many of us, would do exactly  as we are doing for a living now, if we did not need to work. Not many? Most people? Or, how many people would say yes, and discover it's no, or vice versa.

         The truth is, we can't know. We all think we know what we would do in any given circumstance, but how accurate would we be? I, like many others, have thought about being rich enough not to have to worry. That, for me, would the one biggest thing, the main advantage if you will. The worry about not having enough money to go around, would be gone. The relief to know that the bills could be paid, and the mortgage secure, or a house bought at all, is massive. Too big for most of us, to actually get our head around.

          Many say they would keep working, or it would change nothing. A few, who have done things of that kind, or won the lotto, have done just that. Two, or three years down the track, will that have changed. Will other wishes, and needs have taken precedence. Can they continue taking the job from someone who may need it more. Will it all have changed anyway. People's attitudes to you, the families wishes for you to spend more time with them. Or, your understanding of how everything changes if you have that sort of money. If you are financially independent.

          The idea of being able to go anywhere you like, to stay as long as you like is awesome. As is the thought of helping your loved ones. Allowing your parents to retire. Or, start your child off on the property ladder. Perhaps buy a new roof for the local church. Or, pay for the medical costs of someone who is in dire straits. The possibilities are endless. Even if you opted for the secrecy pact, it's not as easy as you think. People notice changes in spending habits, the tax man certainly does. So many things to consider, if you are to get it right.

            However, and there is always a 'but,' isn't there? Money does not only take away worry. Or give you freedom, you have not had before. It also brings with it, it's own set of problems. Along with added responsibilities, to replace your former ones. Not least of which, is what to do with large sums of money. Keep it in the bank, hide it under the bed, invest it something, give it away? There are a whole raft of decisions right there. It's likely to be trial, and error. Mainly because no one knows exactly how they will react.

            Will you find out. You have to wonder? I suggest, you begin making your plans here, and now. Partly because, it takes time to get it right. Secondly, to plan the best way to deal with vast sums of your money, is perhaps the strongest positive thought you could have, it had to come to one of us, doesn't it. Why not me, why not you?

       Start planning, making your lists, building your dream book....you never know what could come your way! 

       Happy planning.