Letters to my Fanny

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I’m fastidious about it now. I know what to look out for. If I’ve been for a wee and it’s a bit shorter than normal that’s usually the first sign. I’ll then get this strange ache in my pelvic area which grows and grows if you don’t do anything about it, until next time you go to the loo you’ll get the trademark sting when you wee.” Letters of Jane Austen -- Brabourne Edition "She was obliged to recollect that her seeing the letter was a You absorb me in spite of myself—you alone: for I look not forward with any pleasure to what is called being settled in the world; I tremble at domestic cares—yet for you I would meet them, though if it would leave you the happier I would rather die than do so. What softer words can I find for you after this—what it is I will not read. Nor will I say more here, but in a Postscript answer any thing else you may have mentioned in your Letter in so many words—for I am distracted with a thousand thoughts. I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a Heathen.

Letters To Fanny Keats, 26 October 1819 John Keats Letters To Fanny Keats, 26 October 1819

Fanny sits nicely between vagina and cunt – do you use the other two ever? If not why? If yes, in what circumstances? They did an ultrasound and discovered because I had left it so long, my kidneys were permanently damaged; they will always be scarred from the infection.” Both – I’m a green-juice and yoga girl in the week (although I’m writing this on a Wednesday afternoon with a huge glass of prosecco) and then a cheesy nacho and vodka girl at the weekends. My mum is so incredibly supportive – she’s quite traditional and definitely not someone to say or do anything too taboo but somehow she doesn’t bat an eyelid at my shenanigans – her attitude and unconditional love gives me the freedom to be completely honest. I hope my kids feels that.

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They can happen if I’m too hot, get dehydrated, go on a long haul flight, if I’m overtired; so many different reasons. As I’ve got older they have become more regular and they have peaked since the birth of my second child, Bear, who is five. I’ve had dozens,” says Cherry, who also has a daughter, Coco, nine. In this hilarious and candid memoir about twenty-first-century womanhood, Cherry Healey shares outrageous, poignant and eye-wateringly funny confessions. You are wonderful, look after yourself, respect yourself, appreciate the miracle that you are. Oh and sorry for cutting you with scissors when I was trimming you whilst also texting. My love—I have been in so irritable a state of health these two or three last days, that I did not think I should be able to write this week. Not that I was so ill, but so much so as only to be capable of an unhealthy teasing letter. To night I am greatly recovered only to feel the languor I have felt after you touched with ardency. I kiss'd your Writing over in the hope you had indulg'd me by leaving a trace of honey. What was your dream? Tell it me and I will tell you the interpretation threreof.

Letters to my Fanny by Cherry Healey | Goodreads Letters to my Fanny by Cherry Healey | Goodreads

I never knew before, what such a love as you have made me feel, was; I did not believe in it; my Fancy was afraid of it, lest it should burn me up. But if you will fully love me, though there may be some fire, 'twill not be more than we can bear when moistened and bedewed with Pleasures. I had heard the name of the author but I don't recall ever seeing her on screen. I have never been a great television watcher and I have worked most nights for the past 18 years. I may also have had her confused with another BBC3 presenter when I started this book. It happens as their names end in a similar sound. I am therefore reviewing (I originally used 'judging' there but I know reviewing sounds better) this book as a book of someone I am not familiar with.Everything was shut for the holidays so I used Push Doctor [an app which lets you see an GP over the internet] and they sent a prescription to my local pharmacy.” I have been reading lately an oriental tale of a very beautiful color. It is of a city of melancholy men, all made so by this circumstance. Through a series of adventures each one of them by turns reach some gardens of Paradise where they meet with a most enchanting Lady; and just as they are going to embrace her, she bids them shut their eyes they shut them and on opening their eyes again find themselves descending to the earth in a magic basket. The remembrance of this Lady and their delights lost beyond all recovery render them melancholy ever after. How I applied this to you, my dear; how I palpitated at it; how the certainty that you were in the same world with myself, and though as beautiful, not so talismanic as that Lady; how I could not bear you should be so you must believe because I swear it by yourself. You mention 'horrid people' and ask me whether it depend upon them whether I see you again. Do understand me, my love, in this. I have so much of you in my heart that I must turn Mentor when I see a chance of harm befalling you. I would never see any thing but Pleasure in your eyes, love on your lips, and Happiness in your steps. I would wish to see you among those amusements suitable to your inclinations and spirits; so that our loves might be a delight in the midst of Pleasures agreeable enough, rather than a resource from vexations and cares. But I doubt much, in case of the worst, whether I shall be philosopher enough to follow my own Lessons: if I saw my resolution give you a pain I could not.