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Many people, sooner or later, cross paths with someone who is a real bully; someone who has no feeling or sympathy for other people. I am fortunate in that I have had very little contact with such people, except the usual bullies that I encountered in my childhood days. But it is ironical that I have worked for such a person for the past two years, and that at the age of 64!

Anyway, it is not my intention to use the internet and my blog to talk about or attack such people. Suffice it to say that this person is directly responsible for the fact that I am facing this special time, Christmas, without a cent in my pocket. Fortunately, I don’t have young children or grandchildren. Imagine facing your grandchildren (or your children) on Christmas eve and telling them that you have nothing for them …

I shall survive. A door will open for me somewhere. And make no mistake — I’ll be going on my 100 km hike, no matter what! I need that hike more than ever before in order to cleanse my mind of that individual’s poison.

D.H Lawrence has always been one of my favourite poets. This, I think, is particularly appropriate in my situation:

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
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