Weekend Vlog: A heart-felt Virtual Hug to Marj from Bohemian sentiments & an Update

I caught a really bad flu/cold.  Because of my sickle cell disease thingie catching a cold can become very dangerous and extremely painful. When the lung fill up with mucus there is less available oxygen which triggers a sickle cell crisis:

acute chest syndrome occurs when sickle cells become trapped in the chest, blocking the flow of blood and oxygen to the lungs. This causes pneumonia, fever, pain and severe coughing. It can also lead to permanent damage to the lungs. The crisis is a common complication in sickle-cell patients and can be associated with one or more symptoms including fever, cough,excruciating pain, and it is one of the most common causes of death for sickle cell patients.

Two years I got my first taste of acute chest syndrome. I sneezed/coughed hard and It felt like I was hit by a bullet in my chest. I fell down in my living room and unfortunately my lady was sleeping and I had to stay there for a bit.  Because when I get sick I can get debilitatingly sick I tend to push the pace with things which is a bad habit to go 100% all the time. It tires and stresses me out and causes me to get sick. This year I am working on learning to relax and take it easy.

Enter Marj

read her about page here

Marj is one of the sweetest people I have met. She sent me an email to see how I was doing. I was very touched by this. It made me want to apologize to all of you out there who read my blog. I thrive on communication and interaction with others, and I have gotten a lot of it here so many of  you have been rather nice to me and I want to thank you. My life is a bit crazy now, well its always crazy and I hope someday soon a lot of the nonsense will pass, but I am really sorry that I cannot always return the words and friendly affection I receive from you guys. I’m working on that. Anyways

Hugs to Marj

The name Marjorie comes from the Greek for pearl.  Knowing what I know of Marj I feel this event in her life is like the salt that the oyster builds the pearl around. My condolences Marj

Here are your videos:

Feb 2: Weekend Update

Feb 2: Shout out to Marj from Bohemian Sentiments

Feb 2: virtual Hug & Reading Demain Des L’Aube for a Friend


Demain Dès l’Aube

par Victor Hugo

Demain, dès l’aube, à l’heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends.
J’irai par la forêt, j’irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.

Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.

Je ne regarderai ni l’or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et, quand j’arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.


Tomorrow, beginning at dawn, at the time when the countryside pales,
I will leave. You see, I know that you are waiting for me.
I will go through the forest, I will go through the mountain.
I cannot remain far from you any longer.

I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts,
seeing nothing else, hearing no noise,
alone, unknown, my back hunched over, my hands crossed,
sad, and the day for me will be like night.

I will not see the gold of the evening falling,
nor the sails in the distance going down toward Harfleur,
and when I arrive, I will lay on your tomb
a bouquet of green holly and of heather in bloom.

Léopoldine Hugo (Léopoldine Cécile Marie-Pierre Catherine Hugo; 28 August 1824 – 4 September 1843) was the daughter of novelist, poet and dramatist Victor Hugo and his wife, Adèle Foucher. She married Charles Vacquerie at Saint-Paul-Saint-Louis on 15 February 1843 but they both drowned together only a few months later, when their boat capsized on the Seine in Villequier on 4 September 1843. This had a great impact on the work and personality of her father Victor Hugo. He dedicated numerous poems to the memory of his daughter, notably Demain dès l’aube and À Villequier in Pauca Meae, the fourth book of Les Contemplations. Demain des l’aube  is a poem about Victor Hugo’s experience traveling from his house to his daughter’s grave.



  1. My dearest Dave,

    I couldn’t help but cry upon seeing this post for the first time early this afternoon. I was about to rush to work – yes, I do work part-time (different job) on Sundays – but it took me a while to pull myself together especially after reading Victor Hugo’s evocative poetry he dedicated to his daughter.
    You call me sweet, yet you are the sweeter one; probably the sweetest blogger around here at WP. You’ve always given your love and support to your fellow bloggers generously, Dave. What is there not to love about you?
    The first vlog had me laughing with your dear cat showing you a great deal of affection :-).
    The second one had me crying again with your compassion and empathy towards my circumstance. My son must have thought I’d completely lost it when he spotted me laughing then crying in front of my computer.
    Again, thank you for being so kind and sympathetic. You don’t need to apologize at all for “not being able to return the words and friendly affection you receive from us.” You’ve already done a great deal for your readers and followers by putting up and carrying on with this awesome blog of yours.
    You will also have to allow me to write about your awesomeness in my blog soon, won’t you?

    And how I cherish that bear hug from you, MrMary.

    With so much love and affection,


    • Marj,

      Thank you for your kind words.

      Everyone has their detractors and I am no exception. I am always blown away at how without being in contact we can affect other people’s lives despite our own shortcomings and limitations. One of the things that I have had proven to me over an over again is that one person’s pain is everyone’s pain. It sound quixotic I know, but at the same time, who hasnt been touched by loss ? How many of us carry-on old behaviors or bad habits that helped in a way cauterize us from hurt. Sometimes I used to think of all the hurt and loss in the world and how it is over-whelming and unfair. Then I used to think of the beauty of life how it is also awe-inspiring in a way beyond the confine of space and time. It’s like a rose really, the thorns are there in close proximity of the flower, but there is something else there an essence that perfumes the air. I think when we celebrate loss and bounty we get access to the perfume. Also sometimes long after the flowers have gone there is still a smell in the air. I think that the same for our loved on that pass, they perfume the air of our lives.

      I wish you the best as always
      My condolances dear



  2. As Marj herself said in her comment, that was sweet — made all the more so by the lousy state of your health when you made the video. She is a wonderful writer and a beautiful person, as well. She deserves to have good friends like you. I’m glad she does.

    I hope you’re feeling better.


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