donkey cartoon

When I first started writing this mostly light-hearted blog ‘Blame It On The Donkey’, I was running it alongside my genuine blog that I have been writing for several years.

As things have developed and circumstances have changed, I found myself writing more frequently in my original blog. This is a mostly more serious site with a bit of ‘pic ‘n mix’ thrown in.

I am putting Blame It On The Donkey on temporary or permanent hold (I haven’t quite decided yet).

I am, however, inviting you to follow my alternative blog which is called ‘Elliesofia’ and can be found at

lantern girl

{Introducing Ellie (me, myself and I) ❤ }

I would be delighted to see you over there, where I am completely able to my genuine self, so please stop by and perhaps say, “Hi” and all visitors will be greeted with a very warm welcome.

Thank you for your support in the short time that I have been writing this blog and hope  that you will understand my calling “All Change”.

Love Ellie (formerly known here as Cody) xxx 🙂



gif - power of love - power of war

I don’t claim to be an expert or even a particularly knowledgeable person when it comes to the subject of Planet Earth. I failed geography, abysmally at school. However, I do care about what we are doing to our world and beyond. I care about all the people who have suffered and lost their lives, those who are still suffering and those who will suffer in the future whether it be by natural causes, illness, disasters, war, poverty or by any other means.

I care that we are destroying our planet; destroying our population; destroying our people, wildlife, and nature. I care that we are ravaged by war; that we are polluting our planet and the atmosphere. I care that a huge number of people are homeless, roaming the streets, roaming the deserts, the plains, the forests and the wilderness. I could continue further, but many of us know the facts already.

I am scared for all our futures; I’m scared for our children’s futures, our grandchildren’s futures and all future generations after that, if by then there is still a habitable planet to live on. The list goes on and on … and on … and on … and on … until infinity.

And the very recent and past atrocities have really brought home to me just how fragile our lives are. If only the power of love could overcome the power of war then maybe, just maybe we could experience peace in our time. Perhaps it would be a start.

A very close friend of mine, Katie, wrote these very moving words about the current situation that I wanted to share with you here….

The winds of Mother Nature are blowing on the Earth
Accepting all we’ve done to her since our sweet sacred birth.
There are babies curled in cradles unaware of hate and crime
Dreaming of their Mummies in the loving hands of Time.
Forgive us sweetest Mother for the ways that we’ve grown old
For independent streaks in us that turned our hearts too cold.
We’ve sinned so much we’re hurting and the pain is plain to see
That first we were so innocent on a gentle, rocking knee.
How love could turn to awful hate and safety turn to terror
Is based it seems on single thoughts that have their root in error.
Behind us and in front of us is such an awesome Love
That would have us in its gentlest hold in time with God above.
If only we could fall down flat and beg to stop the violence
Our hearts might cry sincerely out, then rest in hallowed silence.

©Katie Marsh 2015



Several days after the event, I am asking myself, ” have I got over the assault?” I’m not quite sure. “Perhaps it’s still early days”, my compassionate self tells me. “C’mon, get it together”, my rational self states.  Physically, I’m healing albeit slowly. Emotionally, I have to confess I’m still a bit of a wreck. Mentally … well, mentally, I hear myself reciting the Serenity Prayer that I admit to knowing only too well from having done the twelve-step program many years ago …

serenity prayer on blackboard

Having read this over and over, I have to acknowledge the fact that this assault did happen to me. I can’t turn back the clock, as much as I’d like to so this is something that God will have to grant me the serenity to accept.

Courage to change the things I can‘. Well, when it comes down to it, the only thing in this situation I can change is myself. I need to change my thought process. I think, “Come on now; the flowers are beginning to wilt, and I’ve eaten most of the chocolates, so, perhaps my journey into recovery has started. And however much I like being under my duvet with my favourite (and very old) bear, I guess I’m going to have to come out into the world at some point”.  Easier said than done. I have, however, decided, once I get my confidence back, to attend the church in town instead of the one that is more remote that I like, admittedly, but it involves a slightly precarious journey travelling along three mostly abandoned footpaths.

As for the wisdom to know the difference, well I definitely need that as I’m unsure as to whether I’m being practical or being harsh on myself? I don’t know. [Do you see what I mean when I say, emotionally, I am a bit of a wreck?] Maybe it’s a little too soon to have gained the wisdom part. I guess, with God’s help, I’ll have to work on that part.

In the meantime, life goes on, or does it? Strangely, although I was assaulted in my home, my fear is of going out is worse than my fear of being indoors. I want to stay cocooned in the relative safety of familiar walls with entrances and exits sealed and not answer the door to anyone other than my caregivers. I know that’s not very practical when I live alone and have to shop and go out to continue my work at the university. I have a short spell of ‘compassionate leave’ but then have to pick up where I left off.

God, please grant me the serenity I so need right now. Thank you with all my heart x

On Being Human in a World of Terror

A brilliantly written and poignant blog – please take time to read this. Thanks Ananonymous x


I am not a world leader. I am not a soldier. I am not terrorist. I am an expert in nothing except my own personal life experience, varied and unusual as that may be.

I am uneducated; a high school drop-out living in a little suburb whose name would mean nothing to you. I am halfway round the world from where this hot-blooded, fear-driven, disgusting violence is occurring. I am an American, and I know that fact alone shows that I am not necessarily from a culture that thinks before acting. Yet I beg that you listen to me anyway.

Fear makes all people irrational. It has proven to be a powerful tool throughout history, particularly when created by those with malicious intent. No one is immune to its effects: fear is a natural and necessary survival skill, without which the human race would have gone extinct thousands of years…

View original post 1,983 more words


picking up the pieces

For my friends and fellow bloggers:

Just to let you know how I am doing until I’m back on blogging form which I hope won’t be long. I’m slowly picking up the pieces…


“It’s taking me a long time to recover from the assault I experienced and wrote about last week which I suppose it to be expected. Although I realize how lucky I am to be still here, I haven’t got over the shock and the awful trauma of it all yet and sometimes I just dissolve into pieces and floods of tears.

I have spent the last week being interviewed by the police in the aftermath of what happened to me.  The Victim Support organization have been in touch too and have offered me one to one emotional support for as long as I need it which I appreciate and need so much right now. My GP and the hospital have been so understanding and are helping me recover, physically from the attack.

However, I’m living in fear each day of every knock on the door, every car that pulls up near my house, every unexpected noise or movement even though I know that this ‘man’ is in police custody and can’t reach me. That doesn’t stop me having nightmares. Nor does it stop the overwhelming flashbacks that are almost as real as the event itself.

I’ve told very few people other than the professionals who are dealing with and supporting me. At some point, I have to tell my family as they have guessed something isn’t right even though the nearest of them lives over 60 km away from me. They suspect something is wrong despite how hard I’ve tried to disguise a cracking voice and although they cannot see my tear-stained face. I didn’t want to tell them…”

Well, as much as I’d like to do, I’m afraid I can’t blame this on the donkey! I’ll be back  x  😉



I said in my last post that I would add something on this page by way of an explanation to let you know why I am absent from this blog for a while.

On Monday, I was unfortunate enough to be the victim of a serious assault. I’m sure you will appreciate that it is difficult to write humorous posts while I am recovering from such an event. I am receiving help and the matter is being dealt with by the police.

I will pick up this blog again as soon as I am feeling well enough. Please bear with me as I need your support more than ever at the moment.

Thank you, my friends,

Love Cody x


Due to very serious, sudden and unforeseen circumstances, I won’t be able to write anything here for a while. However, I will post something in the next day or so to try to explain what is happening. My sincere apologies to those of you who I’m not able to email personally at the moment. I will do so as soon as I can.

Please bear with me. I need your support more than ever at this time. Thank you for understanding.

Love to you all, Cody xx


guy fawkes

‘BANG!’, I heard, in the middle of the night. It woke me with a start. If I could have sat bolt upright in bed, I would have done so but that would have been a tad difficult given that my backbone is shaped rather like a black adder (that’s the unpopular and poisonous snake, not the very famous television series). I had no idea what the noise was other than it could have been a firework lobbed over my back fence by some mindless yob or yob-ess who had nothing better to do with their time in the wee small hours. I worriedly clutched at ‘Bear’ hoping he would protect me. ‘Fred’ the sock whined and wanted to come and hide with us, but I refused to have three-in-a-bed so Fred shot a filthy glance at me, I glared back disapprovingly, and Fred decided to blame the whole incident on the imaginary donkey. You know, the one that lives at the bottom of my bed because I’m ever-so-slightly mad!  (You may have met Fred, Bear and the donkey in my ‘Getting to Know Me’ page earlier).

I lay there and listened intently. I could hear nothing else so concluded that, yes, it was likely to be a banger as the next night was Guy Fawkes night. Later, there would be sparklers and rockets shooting off in every direction; effigies burning on bonfires all over the country; excited children running about and platefuls of traditional  British ‘bangers and mash’ with an accompanying splodge of brown sauce waiting to greet them when they’d come in from the cold.

bangers and mash

Once I had convinced myself I was not a damsel in distress, that Bear was useless at self-defence and Fred didn’t stand a chance, I decided that I was quite safe. I didn’t need to alert the police or the fire brigade; so I decided to try and make the most of the remnants of what could have been a good night’s sleep. However, I felt cold so pulled my duvet and fleece up under my chin but still lay there, shivering. Eventually, I managed a couple of hours of rest although subconsciously I had one eye open ‘just in case’ of intruders or the bogeyman visiting.

This morning, I got up, glided elegantly down the stairs on Brian, my stairlift, into the hallway and then realised that my front door was wide open! My new, electronic door was flung back against the wall; that is what the bang had been in the night, and there was I, in my lovely, fluffy pink pyjamas on view to the entire neighbourhood.

I immediately phoned the remotely-controlled door company to report the very apparent fault and demanded that they sent a technician out to fix it promptly. A wilting specimen of a man called ‘Lawrence’ arrived, tail suitably behind his legs, muttering (under his breath) something about their company having only once seen a case like this over twenty years ago. That was of no consolation at all and I was left rather bemused and could only wonder whether, myself, Lawrence, Bear or Fred was the maddest. In conclusion, I decided that after all, I’d best blame it on the donkey.


(Well, the wanderer has returned; back again from my brief interlude but not in the easiest of circumstances. Life is tough sometimes, and you never know what it is going to throw at you next. Sometimes, life is not about waiting for the storm to pass but rather learning how to dance in the rain).

dance in the rain girl


Earlier this evening, I happened to be searching for a particular image for my blog when suddenly, my computer’s ‘My Pictures’ folder went berserk. A vast quantity of tiny picture thumbnail icons that I didn’t recognise appeared on my PC screen. I thought, at first, that this must be my entire Facebook photo collection going back as far as the year dot but then I started to notice that some of these images were extremely unfamiliar to me. There was so many of them that the screen started dancing in front of my eyes. They ranged from a simple spring Buttercup to a not-so-innocent image of a rather sordid looking woman standing on a street corner in the red-light district of Soho!


red light district

I thought, perhaps, some weird virus had got into my machine and infected it. As I didn’t happen to have a decent dose of antibiotic handy, nor a conveniently large bottle of Zoflora extra-strong, disinfectant which with to destroy said bug I decided I’d better act fast and decided to set myself the onerous task of deleting the ones I definitely could not identify. I grabbed myself a strong coffee and started my mission to clean up my little corner of the world.

My hard work soon proved to be futile. As fast as I could delete these offending images, they would duplicate in front of my very eyes and more thumbnails would appear. Before I knew it these pictures were multiplying at a rate of knots. I was suddenly inundated by double and triples of not only Buttercups and street lights but also peculiar photographs such as those of items at the Tate Modern; a sentry outside Buckingham Palace and a view from a barge down the River Thames.

modern sculpture2

modern sculpture1


I was being outnumbered and exhausted. Now, at fifteen minutes past midnight (well past my bedtime), I’ve admitted defeat. I was on an impossible mission. Help has to be called for urgently before these little gremlins completely consume my faithful PC and it dies and slow and painful death. I have sent out an emergency SOS email to my IT technician and have to trust that he contacts me first thing in the morning, preferably before any permanent damage is done, that is, either to my laptop or more likely to myself as I can feel myself gradually sliding down that slippery road to a near-zombie state. Should I survive till the morning, I will update you on the fate of this here damsel in distress.

(Photos sourced from Bing Images)