There is something comforting about familiarity. Ayr Hospital is a large modern hospital well out of town on a green-field site. As you will see from the last posting I arrived via plane, bus and train (and car to the airport too actually). But I have been there before and so I didn't have to find my way around. That small thing alone provides some confidence. But when I went into the nuclear medicine department I was instantly recognised (from 12 months previously). The lady who injected the dye into my veins even remembered about my son in Glasgow and other details. That made me feel good.
The wards and units are built around garden courts and some of them have sculptures and suchlike. This one particularly took my fancy today.
And this court had been left unmowed:
For those who can't read the notice it says: When the grass is not cut it's a meadow.
We may be apart but when I look at the sky and remember that we are standing on the same earth, looking at the same moon, somehow you don't seem so far away after all.
Life isn't about dawdling to the grave, arriving safely in an attractive, wrinkle-free body but rather an adventure that ends skidding in sideways, champagne in one hand, strawberries in the other, totally worn out, screaming "Yee-ha. What a ride!!"
Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass… It’s about learning to dance in the rain. (With thanks to shabby girl ofA Travelling Fish)
But what are plans other than more restrictions? (With thanks to Pauline)
Feeling young is fabulous but growing old is a blessing!!! (A comment on this blog by Jaz who used to writeTreacy Travels.)
The trick to pushing 70, GB, is to push back -- hard!!! (A comment by Carol aka Canadian Chickadee who comments but does not blog)
Having lived the majority of my life in the Hebrides where my heart is, I feel I can now call myself a Hebridean. For nine years I lived half my life in New Zealand: a country I love. It was an honour being a part time Kiwi.
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