Crucible:
- a container in which metals or other substances can be heated to very high temperatures.
- a situation in which something is tested or a conflict takes place, often one which produces something new.
- a severe trial or test.
Cauldron:
- a large, round container for cooking in, usually supported over a fire.
- something resembling a boiling cauldron in intensity or degree of agitation. Example – a cauldron of intense emotion.
“Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.” Josephine Hart, Damage.
Mine’s not an original or unique story, far from it. It wasn’t so bad for me, not compared to a lot of other people. In fact I was one of the lucky ones. I didn’t die. I didn’t have to watch my father die over Zoom. I wasn’t excluded from a loved one’s funeral. I didn’t even have to decide who to exclude from a loved one’s funeral. I didn’t catch the thing until after I was vaccinated and then I just spent a couple of days on the couch feeling like shit and I was fine. But it was never going to be easy. By the time it hit I was living alone and coping with a marriage breakdown, an intense and very long distance relationship, recent retirement, all overlaid on a lifetime of heavy drinking and parental abuse. So when it hit I suppose it was a crucible. Or a cauldron. One or the other. Separation, isolation, fear, loneliness, depression, despair. A corrupt, mendacious and incompetent government. I said my story’s not original, and it isn’t. And I was just like many many other people when a lifetime habit of heavy drinking turned to alcoholism and dependence. And things got dark.
But maybe I’m misleading you. Let’s cheer up. I started writing these poems and short stories when I retired in 2018, years before the pandemic and I had a lot of fun writing them. They’re not all bleak and miserable and doom and gloom. Not at all. So while it’s true that some are dark and some are viscerally personal there’s also a lot of fun stuff in here as well. At least I think so. You be the judge.
And I’m sober now, and have every expectation of staying so. I’m not sure it’s acceptable to say this, and I may sound stupid and even callous, but thank you Covid. After fifty years you finally led me to a place where I understood that I was not a person who could drink alcohol safely. And I learned to play the ukulele.
Les informations fournies dans la section « Synopsis » peuvent faire référence à une autre édition de ce titre.
EUR 2,31 expédition depuis Royaume-Uni vers France
Destinations, frais et délaisVendeur : Rarewaves.com UK, London, Royaume-Uni
Paperback. Etat : New. N° de réf. du vendeur LU-9798300313975
Quantité disponible : Plus de 20 disponibles
Vendeur : Ria Christie Collections, Uxbridge, Royaume-Uni
Etat : New. In. N° de réf. du vendeur ria9798300313975_new
Quantité disponible : Plus de 20 disponibles
Vendeur : Rarewaves.com USA, London, LONDO, Royaume-Uni
Paperback. Etat : New. N° de réf. du vendeur LU-9798300313975
Quantité disponible : Plus de 20 disponibles
Vendeur : California Books, Miami, FL, Etats-Unis
Etat : New. Print on Demand. N° de réf. du vendeur I-9798300313975
Quantité disponible : Plus de 20 disponibles
Vendeur : AHA-BUCH GmbH, Einbeck, Allemagne
Taschenbuch. Etat : Neu. Neuware - Crucible: N° de réf. du vendeur 9798300313975
Quantité disponible : 2 disponible(s)
Vendeur : CitiRetail, Stevenage, Royaume-Uni
Paperback. Etat : new. Paperback. Crucible: - a container in which metals or other substances can be heated to very high temperatures.- a situation in which something is tested or a conflict takes place, often one which produces something new.- a severe trial or test.Cauldron: - a large, round container for cooking in, usually supported over a fire.- something resembling a boiling cauldron in intensity or degree of agitation. Example - a cauldron of intense emotion."Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive." Josephine Hart, Damage.Mine's not an original or unique story, far from it. It wasn't so bad for me, not compared to a lot of other people. In fact I was one of the lucky ones. I didn't die. I didn't have to watch my father die over Zoom. I wasn't excluded from a loved one's funeral. I didn't even have to decide who to exclude from a loved one's funeral. I didn't catch the thing until after I was vaccinated and then I just spent a couple of days on the couch feeling like shit and I was fine. But it was never going to be easy. By the time it hit I was living alone and coping with a marriage breakdown, an intense and very long distance relationship, recent retirement, all overlaid on a lifetime of heavy drinking and parental abuse. So when it hit I suppose it was a crucible. Or a cauldron. One or the other. Separation, isolation, fear, loneliness, depression, despair. A corrupt, mendacious and incompetent government. I said my story's not original, and it isn't. And I was just like many many other people when a lifetime habit of heavy drinking turned to alcoholism and dependence. And things got dark.But maybe I'm misleading you. Let's cheer up. I started writing these poems and short stories when I retired in 2018, years before the pandemic and I had a lot of fun writing them. They're not all bleak and miserable and doom and gloom. Not at all. So while it's true that some are dark and some are viscerally personal there's also a lot of fun stuff in here as well. At least I think so. You be the judge.And I'm sober now, and have every expectation of staying so. I'm not sure it's acceptable to say this, and I may sound stupid and even callous, but thank you Covid. After fifty years you finally led me to a place where I understood that I was not a person who could drink alcohol safely. And I learned to play the ukulele. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability. N° de réf. du vendeur 9798300313975
Quantité disponible : 1 disponible(s)
Vendeur : Grand Eagle Retail, Mason, OH, Etats-Unis
Paperback. Etat : new. Paperback. Crucible: - a container in which metals or other substances can be heated to very high temperatures.- a situation in which something is tested or a conflict takes place, often one which produces something new.- a severe trial or test.Cauldron: - a large, round container for cooking in, usually supported over a fire.- something resembling a boiling cauldron in intensity or degree of agitation. Example - a cauldron of intense emotion."Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive." Josephine Hart, Damage.Mine's not an original or unique story, far from it. It wasn't so bad for me, not compared to a lot of other people. In fact I was one of the lucky ones. I didn't die. I didn't have to watch my father die over Zoom. I wasn't excluded from a loved one's funeral. I didn't even have to decide who to exclude from a loved one's funeral. I didn't catch the thing until after I was vaccinated and then I just spent a couple of days on the couch feeling like shit and I was fine. But it was never going to be easy. By the time it hit I was living alone and coping with a marriage breakdown, an intense and very long distance relationship, recent retirement, all overlaid on a lifetime of heavy drinking and parental abuse. So when it hit I suppose it was a crucible. Or a cauldron. One or the other. Separation, isolation, fear, loneliness, depression, despair. A corrupt, mendacious and incompetent government. I said my story's not original, and it isn't. And I was just like many many other people when a lifetime habit of heavy drinking turned to alcoholism and dependence. And things got dark.But maybe I'm misleading you. Let's cheer up. I started writing these poems and short stories when I retired in 2018, years before the pandemic and I had a lot of fun writing them. They're not all bleak and miserable and doom and gloom. Not at all. So while it's true that some are dark and some are viscerally personal there's also a lot of fun stuff in here as well. At least I think so. You be the judge.And I'm sober now, and have every expectation of staying so. I'm not sure it's acceptable to say this, and I may sound stupid and even callous, but thank you Covid. After fifty years you finally led me to a place where I understood that I was not a person who could drink alcohol safely. And I learned to play the ukulele. Shipping may be from multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability. N° de réf. du vendeur 9798300313975
Quantité disponible : 1 disponible(s)