Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Sunday, June 26, 2005
New life blossoms and nourishes
Partner and children have gone away for a few days. I was to have gone too but the holiday was booked before we had Tiffin and none of us had the heart to leave him in kennels or with someone else whilst we all went away. It’s only 5 weeks since his original owner died and the poor old dog would’ve wondered what on earth was happening if we all disappeared.
As it is, it has been quite nice to be alone with Tiffin. At first it was hard to let the children and partner go; especially when my daughter howled as the train left and wanted me to come too, but Tiffin and I have gotten along really well and I’ve discovered that he likes a cup of tea (one sugar).
Yesterday I was weeding a bit of the back garden and then went to do something with the chickens. Normally I am only with the chickens for a few minutes --- with Tiffin on the other side of the fence ---but yesterday I was longer. Tiffin got rather cross and seemed to feel left out – like when a child feels you’ve spent too much time and attention on a sibling. He let go one of his lovely barks –it’s not yappy but a sort of questioning, throaty ‘wrooafff !’ He looked through the slats of the fence so pleadingly.
Later I was sitting on the bench under the apple trees with Tiffin having a cup of tea. I noticed that the rose bush we planted above the grave of our first dog, Dory, had come into bloom.As one life ends another begins.
Dory nourishes the rose and Tiffin nourishes me.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Hector
On Sunday my daughter found this tiny bird……..there was no nest nearby we could pop him back into and so we took him inside and tried to keep him alive.
Sadly he died yesterday (Monday afternoon) despite out best efforts. We called him Hector and I’ve buried him in the garden.
Watching this poor little mite fighting for life really made me aware again of the fragility of existence. The past ten years have seen me witness the birth of two children, countless animals and the deaths of many people I love and care about.
Watching this little fella on his cotton wool in a plastic berry box reminded me of watching one of our children in the intensive care baby unit after birth…..lying on some stuff similar to cotton wool and inside a clear plastic crib.
For me its been a too busy period and I have caught a virus which is making feel decidely shaky. The slightest bug can make my keel very uneven with the wretched CFS always running in the background. However, seeing Hector struggle to survive and trying to help him reminds me how I have to keep on trying even when I feel like giving up.
Sadly he died yesterday (Monday afternoon) despite out best efforts. We called him Hector and I’ve buried him in the garden.
Watching this poor little mite fighting for life really made me aware again of the fragility of existence. The past ten years have seen me witness the birth of two children, countless animals and the deaths of many people I love and care about.
Watching this little fella on his cotton wool in a plastic berry box reminded me of watching one of our children in the intensive care baby unit after birth…..lying on some stuff similar to cotton wool and inside a clear plastic crib.
For me its been a too busy period and I have caught a virus which is making feel decidely shaky. The slightest bug can make my keel very uneven with the wretched CFS always running in the background. However, seeing Hector struggle to survive and trying to help him reminds me how I have to keep on trying even when I feel like giving up.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Another picture of Tiffin
Tiffin is turning out to be such a sweetheart: gentle, forgiving, restful.
What a lovely picture of peace
What a lovely picture of peace
Monday, June 06, 2005
Time for Tiffin
We had a Jack Russell cross called Dory (after Dory Previn) for many years and she was a darling. . Two and a half years ago she died aged 16 years Though we loved her dearly she was a typical JRT --- in that she was naughty, always ‘on’ and never really rested. She was a real comedian and always up to mischief.
In my present state of health there is no way I can cope with the JRT temperament. Its too busy and boisterous, but for many years I have hankered after a whippet.
The first whippet I ever met was whilst taking Dory out. That whippet was called Suzy and ever since then I’ve been in love with their shape, elegance and quiet demeanour.
For the last year I have been looking for an old whippet –one that’s as tired and old as me ! At last we’ve found each other and it’s time for Tiffin !
He’s an almost nine year old dog whose owner dies about 3 weeks ago. He had another name but it just seemed wrong so we’ve rechristened him and he doesn’t seem to mind at all. He came here with us two days ago and it’s like he’s always been here.
I really hope we can do him justice and that his last owner is looking down and approving.
In my present state of health there is no way I can cope with the JRT temperament. Its too busy and boisterous, but for many years I have hankered after a whippet.
The first whippet I ever met was whilst taking Dory out. That whippet was called Suzy and ever since then I’ve been in love with their shape, elegance and quiet demeanour.
For the last year I have been looking for an old whippet –one that’s as tired and old as me ! At last we’ve found each other and it’s time for Tiffin !
He’s an almost nine year old dog whose owner dies about 3 weeks ago. He had another name but it just seemed wrong so we’ve rechristened him and he doesn’t seem to mind at all. He came here with us two days ago and it’s like he’s always been here.
I really hope we can do him justice and that his last owner is looking down and approving.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Campers had a makeover
.........and the van has been resprayed.
She’s no longer Ruby Tuesday but a sort of glowing yellow --- now renamed Glodene (Any Barry White aficionados will appreciate this name change thoughI ‘m not sure Bazza Lurvegod ever had a camper van He was too butch to be camp if you get my drift.)
Glodene’s two tone yellow with a white roof and now has orange seats with green patterns on and the interior has been painted pale green too. She feels very filthy/gorgeous to use the modern vernacular.
She’s no longer Ruby Tuesday but a sort of glowing yellow --- now renamed Glodene (Any Barry White aficionados will appreciate this name change thoughI ‘m not sure Bazza Lurvegod ever had a camper van He was too butch to be camp if you get my drift.)
Glodene’s two tone yellow with a white roof and now has orange seats with green patterns on and the interior has been painted pale green too. She feels very filthy/gorgeous to use the modern vernacular.
Wildlife
Having mentioned the chickens I thought it might be apt to actually upload some pictures of them. We just had a new chicken house delivered. You can see Snowbell surveying her new residence. She must approve because she laid an egg in there shortly after this was taken.
There are also our two rabbits: Suzy and Percy. Suzy is a Desperate Housewife. She’s the Edie of the animal run: desperate for a bit of the other but nothing doing. Percy had been ‘done’ and simply cannot understand her advances. He’s more interested in grass, sunshine and any lettuce that might come his way.
There are also our two rabbits: Suzy and Percy. Suzy is a Desperate Housewife. She’s the Edie of the animal run: desperate for a bit of the other but nothing doing. Percy had been ‘done’ and simply cannot understand her advances. He’s more interested in grass, sunshine and any lettuce that might come his way.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Having promised myself I wont let this turn into an ME CFS blog what happens ? I only seem to get here when some crisis in health or something else has appeared.
So much has been happening and I should have been documenting it here but alas and alack the whole thing has slidden down the mountain as usual. I just cannot keep up with it all.
The Easter hols were just over the last time I got here and now half term is upon the horizon.
Much of my time has been taken up with dentistry. Actually I’m very proud of myself because I have found a new dentist much better than the last and had five fillings without incident or panic or anything BUT the anaesthetic seems to do me in – must be the chemicals and my CFS not reacting very well together. It takes 2 or 3 days to begin to feel OK again and by then the weekend is here and the time is filled up with ferrying children to swimming, parties, friends houses or sorting out domestic stuff.
There have been births and deaths. Our brood of chickens declined by one two weeks ago. I went down to the run and found poor Honey lying there with her little tootsies in the air ---- completely out of the blue. The next day having been in mourning for the poor old bird, I went down and Honey’s sister, Goldie and her chum Spike have produced 9 chicks and the next day Blackie and Coaltar have produced another six so we’re down one and up 15 ----25 chickens in all now. When I found the first chicks I was having a miserable day and the birth of those little things completely lifted me; made me think of the birth of our children. New life is always such a joy and a blessing.
For months I have been trying to find a new dog for us. Three years ago our dear old mutt, Dorothy, passed over after 16 years. She’s buried under the apple trees supplying the nutrients for a beautiful pink rose bush just above her little form. Last week I was having a cheerful but tired day and when I woke up my partner had ’borrowed’ a friend’s dog for the afternoon. This little tike is so naughty but so lovely. It was a joy to throw balls again and take her for a short walk in the fields behind our house and to have that nice doggy smell around again. I went to the Oldies dog site to see if there was a dog we might rescue http://www.oldies.org.uk and there was but sadly she has had to go to another home. She hated other dogs, cats, small animals. With our collection there’s no way we could have met her needs. I am determined to have another dog and if possible to have an old whippet. One will come to me when the time is right.
The most recent event is the death of my mother in law. She only passed three days ago. She had been ill for many years but even so the end was swift and a shock. She had Alzheimer’s like my father. She had been such a vital force: kind, funny, naughty, warm and welcoming and like a second mother to me. Though we hadn’t seen the ‘real her’ for many years it seems strange that she has really gone now and even stranger because now, neither my partner nor I have our parents ---all gone and we’re left here to be the grown ups and carry on the baton. It feels lonely and quite frightening. At least my partner has siblings to share time with and, whilst I have no blood relatives left at all, I do have her family to connect with and share memories.
So much has been happening and I should have been documenting it here but alas and alack the whole thing has slidden down the mountain as usual. I just cannot keep up with it all.
The Easter hols were just over the last time I got here and now half term is upon the horizon.
Much of my time has been taken up with dentistry. Actually I’m very proud of myself because I have found a new dentist much better than the last and had five fillings without incident or panic or anything BUT the anaesthetic seems to do me in – must be the chemicals and my CFS not reacting very well together. It takes 2 or 3 days to begin to feel OK again and by then the weekend is here and the time is filled up with ferrying children to swimming, parties, friends houses or sorting out domestic stuff.
There have been births and deaths. Our brood of chickens declined by one two weeks ago. I went down to the run and found poor Honey lying there with her little tootsies in the air ---- completely out of the blue. The next day having been in mourning for the poor old bird, I went down and Honey’s sister, Goldie and her chum Spike have produced 9 chicks and the next day Blackie and Coaltar have produced another six so we’re down one and up 15 ----25 chickens in all now. When I found the first chicks I was having a miserable day and the birth of those little things completely lifted me; made me think of the birth of our children. New life is always such a joy and a blessing.
For months I have been trying to find a new dog for us. Three years ago our dear old mutt, Dorothy, passed over after 16 years. She’s buried under the apple trees supplying the nutrients for a beautiful pink rose bush just above her little form. Last week I was having a cheerful but tired day and when I woke up my partner had ’borrowed’ a friend’s dog for the afternoon. This little tike is so naughty but so lovely. It was a joy to throw balls again and take her for a short walk in the fields behind our house and to have that nice doggy smell around again. I went to the Oldies dog site to see if there was a dog we might rescue http://www.oldies.org.uk and there was but sadly she has had to go to another home. She hated other dogs, cats, small animals. With our collection there’s no way we could have met her needs. I am determined to have another dog and if possible to have an old whippet. One will come to me when the time is right.
The most recent event is the death of my mother in law. She only passed three days ago. She had been ill for many years but even so the end was swift and a shock. She had Alzheimer’s like my father. She had been such a vital force: kind, funny, naughty, warm and welcoming and like a second mother to me. Though we hadn’t seen the ‘real her’ for many years it seems strange that she has really gone now and even stranger because now, neither my partner nor I have our parents ---all gone and we’re left here to be the grown ups and carry on the baton. It feels lonely and quite frightening. At least my partner has siblings to share time with and, whilst I have no blood relatives left at all, I do have her family to connect with and share memories.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
A good old moan to get it all off my chest
Well, I promised myself that this wouldn’t become a blog about chronic fatigue, but sometimes, it just so gets in the way that it’s impossible to ignore and impossible to mention.
The Easter holidays are over, the children are back at school and now I’m left to pick up the pieces. There is still all the clearing up to do after the bathroom was extended – I did some painting (of walls, doors, drainpipes) in the holidays but there’s still stuff to do and lots to catch up on.
None of this has been helped by the fact that my herbalist sent my tincture just before I ran out of this vital stuff and it was lost in the post. I had no tincture for two weeks and, if I ever had any doubts that this stuff was only working on a placebo/psychological level, they’ve all gone now: the combination of looking after the needs of two young children and no tincture has left me on my knees.
In addition to this my teeth have been playing up and I have to go to the dentist. I hate going – not because of the pain/discomfort but because it’s impossible to find a dentist who understands this condition and the way it ebbs and floes; the way it’s so difficult to cope with that level of dental/personal invasion when you feel tired and weak. I can’t cope with more than 15/20 minutes of treatment and yet when I say this, the dentist gets really shirty and uppity with me. What can I do ? What can I say ? If I could be ‘put out’ I would but the NHS dentists want to work as cheaply and quickly as possible and there’s no time to discuss or understand what’s going on for people as individuals ---not their fault but very frustrating for them and their patients.
It’s strange how quickly the body and mind forgets symptoms once they begin to diminish. Recently all sorts of stuff has re-emerged that I haven’t had for months: the feeling that my blood isn’t reaching my extremities, the dizziness, the tinnitus, the tiredness, the lack of focus, the IBS, the sickness. I’m so sick of all this and so sick of losing my energies to other people and having none left for myself. I will pick up and I will get better than this but it’s so frustrating. I love my children and partner dearly –they all mean the world to me and they cope with this wretched condition very well ----its does affect them too, after all, but I still feel so cross sometimes that my energies go on looking after them to the point where I’m really struggling. I could leave a lot more up to my partner, but I don’t want to become ‘the sick one’; I don’t want to become ‘a condition’. I want to contribute, to give, to care for and not to be cared for. It’s a real conundrum, though I have to say it’s nothing new. Whether I’ve been ill or well, I’ve spent my life trying to figure out the problem of how much of me to give to other people and how much to keep for myself. Sometimes I think I’ll never get it right.
I shouldn’t really be rabbiting on about all this, but this blog’s a space for me to let off steam so……………………………
Moan over………………………………………………………………
The Easter holidays are over, the children are back at school and now I’m left to pick up the pieces. There is still all the clearing up to do after the bathroom was extended – I did some painting (of walls, doors, drainpipes) in the holidays but there’s still stuff to do and lots to catch up on.
None of this has been helped by the fact that my herbalist sent my tincture just before I ran out of this vital stuff and it was lost in the post. I had no tincture for two weeks and, if I ever had any doubts that this stuff was only working on a placebo/psychological level, they’ve all gone now: the combination of looking after the needs of two young children and no tincture has left me on my knees.
In addition to this my teeth have been playing up and I have to go to the dentist. I hate going – not because of the pain/discomfort but because it’s impossible to find a dentist who understands this condition and the way it ebbs and floes; the way it’s so difficult to cope with that level of dental/personal invasion when you feel tired and weak. I can’t cope with more than 15/20 minutes of treatment and yet when I say this, the dentist gets really shirty and uppity with me. What can I do ? What can I say ? If I could be ‘put out’ I would but the NHS dentists want to work as cheaply and quickly as possible and there’s no time to discuss or understand what’s going on for people as individuals ---not their fault but very frustrating for them and their patients.
It’s strange how quickly the body and mind forgets symptoms once they begin to diminish. Recently all sorts of stuff has re-emerged that I haven’t had for months: the feeling that my blood isn’t reaching my extremities, the dizziness, the tinnitus, the tiredness, the lack of focus, the IBS, the sickness. I’m so sick of all this and so sick of losing my energies to other people and having none left for myself. I will pick up and I will get better than this but it’s so frustrating. I love my children and partner dearly –they all mean the world to me and they cope with this wretched condition very well ----its does affect them too, after all, but I still feel so cross sometimes that my energies go on looking after them to the point where I’m really struggling. I could leave a lot more up to my partner, but I don’t want to become ‘the sick one’; I don’t want to become ‘a condition’. I want to contribute, to give, to care for and not to be cared for. It’s a real conundrum, though I have to say it’s nothing new. Whether I’ve been ill or well, I’ve spent my life trying to figure out the problem of how much of me to give to other people and how much to keep for myself. Sometimes I think I’ll never get it right.
I shouldn’t really be rabbiting on about all this, but this blog’s a space for me to let off steam so……………………………
Moan over………………………………………………………………
Friday, March 25, 2005
Good Friday
Good Friday here and I don’t imagine I’ll get much chance to attend to my blog much for the next two weeks ---children on holiday.
Whilst I have this opportunity, I thought I’d note down some of the children’s funny slip ups: at the moment my daughter is singing a new Easter hymn she has learnt at school. She’s only six and gets the words slightly wrong. I’ve no idea what the real words are ___ it’s one of those ghastly new trendy hymns but the mistake is priceless:
‘Jesus isn’t dead anymore
He’s alive and he is lurking………’
Sounds a bit spooky to me
I remember when she was three she wanted to buy something for my birthday. She had been discussing what I might like with her Mum and came to the conclusion that I would like a ice new big back scrubbing brush. She went with her Mum to buy same. She marched right up to the counter in Boots and said ‘Have you got any scrubbers for my dad’s birthday ?’
(I don’t know about other parts of the world, but here in UK ‘scrubbers’ can be a colloquial term for a woman of easy virtue so you can imagine the look of surprise on the assistant’s face)
My dad was a teacher and one of his favourite children’s slip ups was a boy who knew the hymn ‘Gladly the Cross I’d Bear’ but this boy thought the hymn wasn’t about Jesus carrying the weight of the cross but about a bear with a lazy eye !
Whilst I have this opportunity, I thought I’d note down some of the children’s funny slip ups: at the moment my daughter is singing a new Easter hymn she has learnt at school. She’s only six and gets the words slightly wrong. I’ve no idea what the real words are ___ it’s one of those ghastly new trendy hymns but the mistake is priceless:
‘Jesus isn’t dead anymore
He’s alive and he is lurking………’
Sounds a bit spooky to me
I remember when she was three she wanted to buy something for my birthday. She had been discussing what I might like with her Mum and came to the conclusion that I would like a ice new big back scrubbing brush. She went with her Mum to buy same. She marched right up to the counter in Boots and said ‘Have you got any scrubbers for my dad’s birthday ?’
(I don’t know about other parts of the world, but here in UK ‘scrubbers’ can be a colloquial term for a woman of easy virtue so you can imagine the look of surprise on the assistant’s face)
My dad was a teacher and one of his favourite children’s slip ups was a boy who knew the hymn ‘Gladly the Cross I’d Bear’ but this boy thought the hymn wasn’t about Jesus carrying the weight of the cross but about a bear with a lazy eye !
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Yum Yum : Brownies recipe
I'm putting this recipe here because poor old Michael Nobbs (www.michaelnobbs.com) has been feeling a bit guilty about enjoying the sinful pleasures of some luxury junk.
Melt the butter and choc together.
Well, for all those poor souls who must suffer a gluten or wheat free diet, here's something that might hit the spot. If you've got CFS like me or some other dread disease you must know that this recipe comes with some health warnings i.e. it won't do you good healthwise, it won't cure your condition, BUT it will make you happy for a while and feel that you're eating ordinary and naughty stuff like 'normal people' and if you feel a bit yuck afterwards, well, just think of the pleasure you had while you scoffed them.
Actually although they have a load of sugar, the walnuts might do you some good and chocolate is a known aphrodsiac (if you have the energy for post prandial activity !!)
100g butter (or dairy free marg)
75g cooking chocolate
100g gluten free flour
3 eggs
100g chopped walnuts
200g sugar
1 tsp baking powder
Melt the butter and choc together.
Mix the flour, baking powder, sugar and nuts in a separate bowls
Beat in the eggs and follow that with the butter/choc mixture
Pour into a 6"x8" oiled and lined tin
Bake for 30 mins at 180 C, 350 F, Gas 4
Bake for 30 mins at 180 C, 350 F, Gas 4
Right ---done my bit for personkind now.......................................
Horray horray, the bathroom man's gone away
Horray horray, the bathroom man's gone away; and left us with a lovely new bathroom but some clearing up.
He was a lovely chap and I quite appreciated some company in the daytime, but it played havoc with my usual rest times and towards the end of the four weeks I have really been fading fast. He went on Monday noon and I'm trying to rest as much as possible because the Easter holidays start on Friday and I've got two weeks to get through with the children at home. I love them but it's very difficult keeping up with two lively littl'uns.
I shall have to be very careful in how much energy I expend and careful about what I eat and drink since that has an effect on my energy levels too.
Of course I also want sufficient energy so we can enjoy the Camper Van which I've decided to call Ruby Tuesday: I always loved that song --- especially the Melanie version.
I read my daughter 'Alexander Beetle' (from 'Now We Are Six') the other day and could hear dear old Mel singing the words in my head. I think my daughter will look a bit like her when she's older --- same dark eyes, same long dark hair
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
I am .............I miss
I was reading Michael Nobbs blog ( www.michaelnobbs.com) the other day and he has made a list of all the things he is. It’s a simple and intriguing idea ( as Michael’s ideas often are) and I am going to nick it for my blog (sorry Michael) >>
I am ~ ~ ~
· a parent
· a good (enough) parent
· a spouse
· a good cook
· creative
· moody
· jolly
· a survivor of all sorts
· living with CFS
· a camper van owner (yippee!!)
· a Dusty fan
· a lover of a particular grey green colour I call ‘pale snot’
· a whippet lover
· a seaside lover
· a Citroen lover
· conscientious
· loyal
· trustworthy
· secretive
· open
· contradictory
Moving on I’d like to expand on this idea because I was thinking about a lot of things I miss at the moment. Some of these are because of the CFS and some are to do with other circumstances. I do miss but I try not to regret –a waste of energy >>
I miss ~ ~ ~
· having enough energy
· waking up and feeling I can seize the day
· being able to be spontaneous
· being carefree and without responsibility
· being able to travel
· my Mum
· my Dad
· our old dog
· my beach hut
· my blue and white stripy jumper my Mum knitted me
· being younger and being abelt o look outrageous without looking like mutton dressed as lamb or the oldest swinger in town
· being able to eat bread
· being able to drink Pils (or any alcohol)
· be able to dance for long
· visiting the sea (but the van should see to that)
· going to work
· banter
· earning money
I am ~ ~ ~
· a parent
· a good (enough) parent
· a spouse
· a good cook
· creative
· moody
· jolly
· a survivor of all sorts
· living with CFS
· a camper van owner (yippee!!)
· a Dusty fan
· a lover of a particular grey green colour I call ‘pale snot’
· a whippet lover
· a seaside lover
· a Citroen lover
· conscientious
· loyal
· trustworthy
· secretive
· open
· contradictory
Moving on I’d like to expand on this idea because I was thinking about a lot of things I miss at the moment. Some of these are because of the CFS and some are to do with other circumstances. I do miss but I try not to regret –a waste of energy >>
I miss ~ ~ ~
· having enough energy
· waking up and feeling I can seize the day
· being able to be spontaneous
· being carefree and without responsibility
· being able to travel
· my Mum
· my Dad
· our old dog
· my beach hut
· my blue and white stripy jumper my Mum knitted me
· being younger and being abelt o look outrageous without looking like mutton dressed as lamb or the oldest swinger in town
· being able to eat bread
· being able to drink Pils (or any alcohol)
· be able to dance for long
· visiting the sea (but the van should see to that)
· going to work
· banter
· earning money
Everyday Matters: Toyland ~ Teddy
Here it is: my first attempt at a drawing for EverdayMatters (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/everydaymatters)
The task this week was Toyland or a favourite toy.
This teddy has been with me since I was less than two. My Papa (grandfather) bought it for me at Selfridges and dropped by at our house on the way home. Teddy has been everywhere with me, bless his cotton socks. He’s battered and his nose is balding from all the kisses he received when we were both younger. His limbs are wobbly and his growl is failing ( he use to growl when he was tipped forward), but I still love him to death.
The task this week was Toyland or a favourite toy.
This teddy has been with me since I was less than two. My Papa (grandfather) bought it for me at Selfridges and dropped by at our house on the way home. Teddy has been everywhere with me, bless his cotton socks. He’s battered and his nose is balding from all the kisses he received when we were both younger. His limbs are wobbly and his growl is failing ( he use to growl when he was tipped forward), but I still love him to death.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
On being an Only
Having written yesterday’s blog I began to think a bit more about the differing attitudes my mother and I had about being an only child.
My mother always seemed to mourn the fact that she was an only: always looking for that lost sibling. I’ve never really felt that. I’ve been quite happy to be alone.
When I was younger or a child it was quite unusual to be only. People would ask impertinent questions about my mother’s fertility, make jokes about how my parents took one look at me and thought ‘no more’, imply that my parents were somehow selfish to only have one ---as if my sole status was something to do with their lack of ability to cope with more than one. There were all the usual inferences of being spoilt too.
I don’t think I was spoilt. I was loved and cherished, just as I love and cherish both my children now. I know that being an only made me mature more quickly, be comfortable in the company of adults at an early age and comfortable in a variety of social situations. I also know that sometimes the parental gaze was too fierce to bear –not because they were scrutinising me but because there was only me to watch. If I did something naughty, there was no one else to blame !! I also know the pressure of being an only when your parents get old and frail and needy and there’s only you to help them. Even so I wouldn’t change a thing and I like the fact that I enjoy my own company and am very independent.
The only problem I find is that I really need time alone or I go nuts. The last few weeks have been really hard with builders in the house all day from when my partner and the kids go to work and school – no space to breath at all for nearly 4 weeks and its beginning to tell on my frame of mind and mood.
My mother always seemed to mourn the fact that she was an only: always looking for that lost sibling. I’ve never really felt that. I’ve been quite happy to be alone.
When I was younger or a child it was quite unusual to be only. People would ask impertinent questions about my mother’s fertility, make jokes about how my parents took one look at me and thought ‘no more’, imply that my parents were somehow selfish to only have one ---as if my sole status was something to do with their lack of ability to cope with more than one. There were all the usual inferences of being spoilt too.
I don’t think I was spoilt. I was loved and cherished, just as I love and cherish both my children now. I know that being an only made me mature more quickly, be comfortable in the company of adults at an early age and comfortable in a variety of social situations. I also know that sometimes the parental gaze was too fierce to bear –not because they were scrutinising me but because there was only me to watch. If I did something naughty, there was no one else to blame !! I also know the pressure of being an only when your parents get old and frail and needy and there’s only you to help them. Even so I wouldn’t change a thing and I like the fact that I enjoy my own company and am very independent.
The only problem I find is that I really need time alone or I go nuts. The last few weeks have been really hard with builders in the house all day from when my partner and the kids go to work and school – no space to breath at all for nearly 4 weeks and its beginning to tell on my frame of mind and mood.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
A year since I've seen my mum
Today it will be one year since my Mother died: a sweet woman who was always so kind and gentle and spent her life trying to help people. Like me she was an only child. Unlike me I think she always lamented the fact and longed for the supposed closeness of siblings.
My mum suffered from cancer and in her last weeks she really suffered and was incredibly stoic, continuing to get on with life as best she could. Her funeral party (it was a party) was full of daffodils and catkins and pussy willow (her favourite flowers) and friends.
I thank my mum for providing such a good role model and bringing me up with such kindness and sensitivity. I don’t know what happens after death, but I hope mum was right and she and my father are reunited in some way ~ as much in love as they were in this life.
My mum suffered from cancer and in her last weeks she really suffered and was incredibly stoic, continuing to get on with life as best she could. Her funeral party (it was a party) was full of daffodils and catkins and pussy willow (her favourite flowers) and friends.
I thank my mum for providing such a good role model and bringing me up with such kindness and sensitivity. I don’t know what happens after death, but I hope mum was right and she and my father are reunited in some way ~ as much in love as they were in this life.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
The Snooze Palace
It’s been so long since I had a chance to write here. Half term holidays have meant that there’s been hardly any chance to sit down and write. It was a good break though and I managed to keep a wonderful secret which became a wonderful surprise for my children and partner.
For years I have hankered after a camper van. Before I was ill I had beach huts where I would spend time and work and draw and paint. After The Illness that all went awry. There was no time and energy to go and paint and repair the poor old hut and I had to sell it. That was in the day when I was incapable of walking further than about 3meters let alone driving and the hut was 30 minutes drive away.
That was all 4 years ago and since then I have managed to visit the sea maybe 4 times --- and most of those visits in the last year. I still cant drive more than about 30 minutes without becoming tired and foggy. In the past few months I hit upon the idea that if I could find a way to have a rest at my destination I could drive to the sea and back alone ---enter the camper van –my beach hut and snooze palace on wheels.
The van is 30 years old. I was just going to College when it was ‘born’. It’s left hand drive so we can take it to see relatives in Belgium easily and my children ( and partner) love it. The day after we got it the children were up and dressed by 6 a.m. (unheard of) and wanted to go out. By 7.15 we were sitting in the van by a local lake watching the ducks and geese and drinking tea and eating breakfast. I was completely shattered by the time we got back at noon but it was worth it. The amount of pleasure the van has already given us is worth it.
After all the trials and tribulations of the past 10 years I think we all deserve a bit of ‘jolly’ and to fly a little and this van fits the bill.
Someone has resprayed the poor old girl in red with a white ‘Starsky ‘n Hutch’ stripe down the sides . All I need now is one of those brown and white cardies they used to wear.
For years I have hankered after a camper van. Before I was ill I had beach huts where I would spend time and work and draw and paint. After The Illness that all went awry. There was no time and energy to go and paint and repair the poor old hut and I had to sell it. That was in the day when I was incapable of walking further than about 3meters let alone driving and the hut was 30 minutes drive away.
That was all 4 years ago and since then I have managed to visit the sea maybe 4 times --- and most of those visits in the last year. I still cant drive more than about 30 minutes without becoming tired and foggy. In the past few months I hit upon the idea that if I could find a way to have a rest at my destination I could drive to the sea and back alone ---enter the camper van –my beach hut and snooze palace on wheels.
The van is 30 years old. I was just going to College when it was ‘born’. It’s left hand drive so we can take it to see relatives in Belgium easily and my children ( and partner) love it. The day after we got it the children were up and dressed by 6 a.m. (unheard of) and wanted to go out. By 7.15 we were sitting in the van by a local lake watching the ducks and geese and drinking tea and eating breakfast. I was completely shattered by the time we got back at noon but it was worth it. The amount of pleasure the van has already given us is worth it.
After all the trials and tribulations of the past 10 years I think we all deserve a bit of ‘jolly’ and to fly a little and this van fits the bill.
Someone has resprayed the poor old girl in red with a white ‘Starsky ‘n Hutch’ stripe down the sides . All I need now is one of those brown and white cardies they used to wear.
Monday, February 07, 2005
Love in every stitch
Just like everyone else I haven’t kept my New Year Resolutions --- one of which was to start a blog and write it regularly but then I’m not comfortable with deadlines and ultimatums any more so I’ve only got myself to please.
Since I last wrote everything’s been up & down. My daughter caught a bug and gave it to me, so she’s been home and there’s been a lot of comics and watching CBeebies, nice drinks and cuddles and making things til she gets better. That’s been good but kept me from my own stuff. All the same I have managed to clear more junk from the studio and to finish going through my Mum’s stuff. She died almost a year ago now though it seems like yesterday.
When she was dying she was determined to knit a jumper for me. It was too much for her really but she was ever brave and determined and in the end she managed the back, front and half a sleeve and there these sorry bits stayed in a bag until last month. I cannot knit well and neither can my partner, but I found a woman at our local wool shop who would finish it. In truth, poor Mum had got muddly towards the end and was knitting it from odd bits and pieces she had to hand. The jumper is stripy and though there was plenty of wool in some colours there was none left in other colours. This dear woman at the wool shop matched up wool in her shop, unpicked the half sleeve and reknitted in new wool so it would match the other sleeve she had to knit. Two days ago she called to say it was ready.
Its so lovely to have this jumper my Mum worked and struggled so hard to make and to be able to wear it and so lovely that this other woman took such care. I was really touched by all the love and generosity in that one garment. It has gone some way in re-establishing my faith in other people.
Since I last wrote everything’s been up & down. My daughter caught a bug and gave it to me, so she’s been home and there’s been a lot of comics and watching CBeebies, nice drinks and cuddles and making things til she gets better. That’s been good but kept me from my own stuff. All the same I have managed to clear more junk from the studio and to finish going through my Mum’s stuff. She died almost a year ago now though it seems like yesterday.
When she was dying she was determined to knit a jumper for me. It was too much for her really but she was ever brave and determined and in the end she managed the back, front and half a sleeve and there these sorry bits stayed in a bag until last month. I cannot knit well and neither can my partner, but I found a woman at our local wool shop who would finish it. In truth, poor Mum had got muddly towards the end and was knitting it from odd bits and pieces she had to hand. The jumper is stripy and though there was plenty of wool in some colours there was none left in other colours. This dear woman at the wool shop matched up wool in her shop, unpicked the half sleeve and reknitted in new wool so it would match the other sleeve she had to knit. Two days ago she called to say it was ready.
Its so lovely to have this jumper my Mum worked and struggled so hard to make and to be able to wear it and so lovely that this other woman took such care. I was really touched by all the love and generosity in that one garment. It has gone some way in re-establishing my faith in other people.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
From the superficial to the spiritual
She came and liked the work....but then the blow.....she's been thinking about it and it will be a huge risk if she has to self publish again so what if she doesn't pay me but offers me a % of any sales....oh and can I just alter this image here and that image there.
I want to help. I want to be nice. This is /has been my role in life ...I still want to be helpful and nice but not at the expense of my self-esteem and self-worth and I don't think doing a lot of work for no pay will boost my self-worth, so it's a 'no'. Shame really, because it was quite fun but I 'm really trying to re-assess my values and get back to what I know is true for me.
I can find other work which will sustain me both creatively and financially.
I have been reading Deepak Chopra's 'The Book of Secrets'. It's a very dense read but I find the more I read it and let it flow over me (rather than trying to study it with a pencil in my hand) the more the fundamental truths he writes about make sense or connect witthings I already know to be true.
It's odd too, because I find echoes of what he says in no end of places ---odd conversations, things on TV. One thing I love at the moment is 'Tribe' (BBC 2 9p.m. Mondays). Bruce Parry goes to live with remote tribes all over the world and really does live with them --not solely as an observer but really tries to integrate. His good humour, courage and warmth are a real inspiration and he is becoming a real hero to me. What's interesting is that so many of these tribes people have value systems and ways of being and thinking about the world which are more grounded than ours. So much of how they see the world chimes with what I find in books like Chopra's.
I want to help. I want to be nice. This is /has been my role in life ...I still want to be helpful and nice but not at the expense of my self-esteem and self-worth and I don't think doing a lot of work for no pay will boost my self-worth, so it's a 'no'. Shame really, because it was quite fun but I 'm really trying to re-assess my values and get back to what I know is true for me.
I can find other work which will sustain me both creatively and financially.
I have been reading Deepak Chopra's 'The Book of Secrets'. It's a very dense read but I find the more I read it and let it flow over me (rather than trying to study it with a pencil in my hand) the more the fundamental truths he writes about make sense or connect witthings I already know to be true.
It's odd too, because I find echoes of what he says in no end of places ---odd conversations, things on TV. One thing I love at the moment is 'Tribe' (BBC 2 9p.m. Mondays). Bruce Parry goes to live with remote tribes all over the world and really does live with them --not solely as an observer but really tries to integrate. His good humour, courage and warmth are a real inspiration and he is becoming a real hero to me. What's interesting is that so many of these tribes people have value systems and ways of being and thinking about the world which are more grounded than ours. So much of how they see the world chimes with what I find in books like Chopra's.
Saturday, January 22, 2005
She's on her way ......
Well, I've managed to bash out four illustrations and she's coming to look today. This is very scary because I really don't feel like I know what I'm doing ....anyway she sounded positive about the stuff as I explained it on the phone.
The doing of it hasn't been made any easier by the fact that I feel pretty wierd and dreadful at the moment.
On Tuesday I went to the GP for my regular appointment where he says
'How are you ?' and I say
'Much the same' and we swap pleasantries for about 5 minutes and agree there's not much he can do for me and I say
'Goodbye' and he says
'Jolly good. Come back in three months.'
The thing is that on Tuesday I was feeling reasonable OK --well, as OK as I ever feel now. I sat waiting to see the GP in a very full waiting room ---- absolutely packed with the elderly population of my small market town. They seem to treat it as a social occasion:
'Did you know she says she's not coming to the meetings any more because Hilda made a nasty remark about her butterflies (cakes) at the Xmas Bazzar'
'Really, well they're nothing to right home about but we put them on the stall with everyone else's so why is she so upset. Oh look there's a lot a people going in for 'Bloods' ....that's old Fred Runeckle isn't .....poor soul........'
and whilst they chit chat and swap pill and ointment recommendations, muggins takes in great lung fulls of their bl*** germs and now I feel bloody dreadful cos I went to the doctor!
I joke and jape but actually this wretched condition (CFS) really gets me down sometimes. It really gets in the way of everything and its ugly head pops up when you least expect or want it. It's always there waiting to trip you up like a giant germ in a GP's waiting room.
I feel emotionally wobbly too. My poor bro-in-law, who's usually such a merry chap had a horrid year last year with a very strange and hard-to-diagnose illness. Eventually the docs got to the bottom of it and his funny turns and mind blowing depression have been completely alleviated by two drugs. I spoke to him last night on the phone and he sounds so well and cheerful and relieved. I am genuinely delighted for him and it's lovely to hear him as himself again and to see my partner so happy about it and relieved but inside I feel sad for me ----- if only the GPs could give me something to turn me life around like that so I didn't have to keep on trying so hard to keep up with everyone else and pretend I'm OK'ish when often I feel bl*** ill.
Friday, January 21, 2005
The dragon lady arrives and work begins
Well, she came ----- very nice and WI (Womens Institute) and very Keeeeeeeeeeeeen: left me to try out a few ideas. In my mind I had seen ferocious medieval dragons but what she wants is more akin to a sort of dragonesque 'Barney' ...all cutesy and cuddly with clothes so there you go and there I go desperately trying to create something that fits this lady's visual idea of her characters. This is a very strange process for me. I'm not used to trying to dance to someone else's tune, but I'm trying and have learnt to use my tablet for the first time and to use Dabbler.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
One door closes and another one opens
You know how yesterday I was worrying about all the stuff I had got rid of and what would happen next, well today I got a letter from an old neighbour saying that she had a friend who has written a children’s book and wants to find someone to illustrate it. Would I be interested ?
To be honest, I’m not sure. I’ve never done any illustration but I thought I may as well give it a go and phoned her.
She’s elderly and terribly enthusiastic ( I never use a computer dear, ..always stick to my trusty old Imperial ) but says she’s been let down by a friend who illustrates but just doesn’t seem to be working fast enough and
‘…I want this out and published by the end of the year …’
‘Have you found a publisher then ?...’
‘Well, no and I’m keeping it very close to my chest for the moment…’
‘Have you had anything published before ?’
‘Oh yes dear, my ‘History of Little Bumtwizell-on-Slite-‘ was a local triumph’
This conversation has made me a little nervous. For one thing I know nothing about illustration of children’s books and she wants to come and look at my work. What will she make of digital collages and work about dementia, birth, repositories and ill health ? None of it is really kiddy fodder, is it, and not in the style of little bunnies in bonnets either. Also, the stuff about her friend not working fast enough or with enough interest worries me. Will she sap what energy I have and all for nothing as she doesn’t really seem to have a publishing track record.
Maybe I’m being an miserable old bastard again. It is an opportunity ----- well, potentially anyway …………..
To be honest, I’m not sure. I’ve never done any illustration but I thought I may as well give it a go and phoned her.
She’s elderly and terribly enthusiastic ( I never use a computer dear, ..always stick to my trusty old Imperial ) but says she’s been let down by a friend who illustrates but just doesn’t seem to be working fast enough and
‘…I want this out and published by the end of the year …’
‘Have you found a publisher then ?...’
‘Well, no and I’m keeping it very close to my chest for the moment…’
‘Have you had anything published before ?’
‘Oh yes dear, my ‘History of Little Bumtwizell-on-Slite-‘ was a local triumph’
This conversation has made me a little nervous. For one thing I know nothing about illustration of children’s books and she wants to come and look at my work. What will she make of digital collages and work about dementia, birth, repositories and ill health ? None of it is really kiddy fodder, is it, and not in the style of little bunnies in bonnets either. Also, the stuff about her friend not working fast enough or with enough interest worries me. Will she sap what energy I have and all for nothing as she doesn’t really seem to have a publishing track record.
Maybe I’m being an miserable old bastard again. It is an opportunity ----- well, potentially anyway …………..
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Where am I going ??
I had such a miserable day yesterday: passed now ... the grey sky, the boredom of my routine just got to me and then I had a curious moment in the day.
I am trying to sort out a lot of stuff and papers from when I still went to work. Amongst my stuff I have a huge collection of books, postcards, articles, objects which I used to use for reminiscence work with older people. I used to organise and develop projects, run training courses. It was something I felt passionate about and I loved and then, a few years back the sparkle just went out of it for me.
I guess I was just burnt out and when my father died from Alzheimer's I somehow felt a door had closed. If I'm honest there was probably a part of me that needed to do that work in order to feel some control over what was happening to my Dad , although I started doing that type of work when it was very new and quite innovative and long, long before any of us had an inkling that dad was ill. Anyway, I found all this stuff and knew it was time to get rid of most if not all of it ---- it really is something I'm over and don't want to do anymore but I've clung on to the stuff because
(a) I don't know what to replace it with --- it is such a huge part of who I was before I was ill and I invested so much time and effort and love into it and
(b) because, what the hell else will I do ?? what work can I do ? --- locally, I was known as The Reminiscence Person.
I took a big breath and waded in and sorted ---- some stuff I did keep because it was really personal and some because it might be useful for the kids' school work but I did manage to fill two huge boxes with all sorts of resources. Now what to do with it ??
I decided to see if I could pass it on to anyone who would make really good use of it and asked my partner to advertise it on the Council website. I was amazed ---- the response was overwhelming --- so many calls. At one point I thought I was mad not to go back to that area of work --- there's obviously a crying need, interest and I was good at it --- and I could make a living again. I nearly fell for it; nearly went back on my promise to only do what I feel is right NOW.........luckily I hung on and let the stuff go, but God it feels frightening. Will I be good at anything else ? Will I ever be able to make a living again ???
I am trying to sort out a lot of stuff and papers from when I still went to work. Amongst my stuff I have a huge collection of books, postcards, articles, objects which I used to use for reminiscence work with older people. I used to organise and develop projects, run training courses. It was something I felt passionate about and I loved and then, a few years back the sparkle just went out of it for me.
I guess I was just burnt out and when my father died from Alzheimer's I somehow felt a door had closed. If I'm honest there was probably a part of me that needed to do that work in order to feel some control over what was happening to my Dad , although I started doing that type of work when it was very new and quite innovative and long, long before any of us had an inkling that dad was ill. Anyway, I found all this stuff and knew it was time to get rid of most if not all of it ---- it really is something I'm over and don't want to do anymore but I've clung on to the stuff because
(a) I don't know what to replace it with --- it is such a huge part of who I was before I was ill and I invested so much time and effort and love into it and
(b) because, what the hell else will I do ?? what work can I do ? --- locally, I was known as The Reminiscence Person.
I took a big breath and waded in and sorted ---- some stuff I did keep because it was really personal and some because it might be useful for the kids' school work but I did manage to fill two huge boxes with all sorts of resources. Now what to do with it ??
I decided to see if I could pass it on to anyone who would make really good use of it and asked my partner to advertise it on the Council website. I was amazed ---- the response was overwhelming --- so many calls. At one point I thought I was mad not to go back to that area of work --- there's obviously a crying need, interest and I was good at it --- and I could make a living again. I nearly fell for it; nearly went back on my promise to only do what I feel is right NOW.........luckily I hung on and let the stuff go, but God it feels frightening. Will I be good at anything else ? Will I ever be able to make a living again ???
Monday, January 10, 2005
Lost in disappoinments from a bygone era
It's no good .....I can't ignore this wretched condition of CFS. I had quite a good w/e ...tired (as usual) but still took my daughter to a 'Bring 'n' Buy' to raise monies for the Tsunami Appeal and later, at night, we took my imaginary dog for a walk (more about that another time). Today I'm shattered. I spent much of yesterday getting stuff ready for the week --- school clothes, tidying, food etc and now I have a little time for me I haven't got any go ---my fault and when will I ever learn ? It's such a familair story for me and yet I keep on doing it. Is it displacement so I don't have to face my own lack of direction ? Sometimes I feel like I'm just being tossed about in a sea of respnsibility and oughts that belong to other people and their needs and somehow I can't grab a piece of flotsam or jetsum on whcih to cling for survival: not a very sensitive analogy/metaphor at this point in the World but it does seem the most apt
The point is that I love my kids so much that I spend a good deal of time making sure they're OK and days like Saturday at the fayre with daughter are so lovely because she really is a delightful soul and so full of beans and enthusiasm. It makes the amount of energy I have to expend worth it at the time but irritatingly impinges on my free time. Even so, the children are my most important act of creativity ----- all the years at Art School pale in comparison.
Talking of which....I havent been sleeping well this weekend. Had days when everything and anything reminds me of my parents who are both dead now --- my Mum only died a few months back . Anyroadup....I ended up watching late night TV and saw a really interesting prog. about the Art Schools of the '60s and how influential they were on so many aspects of popular culture. Took me back to my childhood in the 60s which, in one way I'm so grateful for (a) because I had great parents and a lovely childhood and (b) because the 60s were a great time to be a kid with so much optimisim and so many resources about. I loved the whole look of everything then(still do) and loved flower power, the abundant resources, the air of revolution, the air of people striving to make a difference and make things better and the idea that anything was possible ---a childlike idea at a time when I was a child. The downside is that come the 70s and the time when I left school, so much of that optimism had waned and the opportunties were much more limited. I had so many friends who went to Uni on the promise of a great job at the end of it and came out to nothing for a long time. It has left a sense of mistrust and cyncism in me that has never really gone away. Maybe I'm just a miserable bastard or maybe I took the 60s ideals to heart too willingly (heh I was only 9 or 10 at the time) but the world just hasn't matched up to what was promised...............
The point is that I love my kids so much that I spend a good deal of time making sure they're OK and days like Saturday at the fayre with daughter are so lovely because she really is a delightful soul and so full of beans and enthusiasm. It makes the amount of energy I have to expend worth it at the time but irritatingly impinges on my free time. Even so, the children are my most important act of creativity ----- all the years at Art School pale in comparison.
Talking of which....I havent been sleeping well this weekend. Had days when everything and anything reminds me of my parents who are both dead now --- my Mum only died a few months back . Anyroadup....I ended up watching late night TV and saw a really interesting prog. about the Art Schools of the '60s and how influential they were on so many aspects of popular culture. Took me back to my childhood in the 60s which, in one way I'm so grateful for (a) because I had great parents and a lovely childhood and (b) because the 60s were a great time to be a kid with so much optimisim and so many resources about. I loved the whole look of everything then(still do) and loved flower power, the abundant resources, the air of revolution, the air of people striving to make a difference and make things better and the idea that anything was possible ---a childlike idea at a time when I was a child. The downside is that come the 70s and the time when I left school, so much of that optimism had waned and the opportunties were much more limited. I had so many friends who went to Uni on the promise of a great job at the end of it and came out to nothing for a long time. It has left a sense of mistrust and cyncism in me that has never really gone away. Maybe I'm just a miserable bastard or maybe I took the 60s ideals to heart too willingly (heh I was only 9 or 10 at the time) but the world just hasn't matched up to what was promised...............
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Another successful step and the cuckoo raises its ugly head and backside
I promised myself that this year I would really try to move forward and do at least one creative thing very day and make at least one new step every week. This is harder than you'd think given that I have CFS and also have to try and manouevre my life around the peaks and troughs of energy and looking after my partner's needs and those of our two children.
The littlies have just returned to school after the Xmas break and I'm trying really hard not to fall back into the trap of doing nothing but 'house stuff' --- cleaning, washing, shopping, cooking, arranging, timetabling, tidying and then spending what time is left recovering so I have the energy to look after them all when they return home.
So far so good ...... I did a bit of rescuing ~ which is my way in life ~ (my partner felt ill this morning so I took my daughter to school and then went and did the shopping and then came home and cleaned and tidied) but I have also finished working on the image for this blog, downloaded the necessary progs. and uploaded the image onto to blog as well as typing this and uploading it. I almost feel smug !! All I have to do now is try to finish playing with this new toy and go and have a sleep so I have enough energy to go and collect my daughter, make her tea and take her to Rainbows ....how did I ever find time to do all that stuff when I was also ayt work before I became ill ??? ............maybe that's what I helped to make me ill.
I had promised myself that I wouldn't mention the CFS on this blog and here it is creeping and seeping in already. I guess I just have to accept the fact that it's so much a part of my life that it has to come in somewhere. It's like a giant cuckoo that waggles its great big bum and makes itself comfortable wherever I take the dog basket of my life --- you know how dogs do that circle before they settle and then when they settle down they sort of nestle in with th'ole backside ...well that's CFS: an unwanted visitor, a flatulent uncle who stays too long, an over chatty auntie who won't SHUT UP . Ho Hum ...maybe if I don't look out the corner of my eye the CFS beast won't realise I realise it's there and I can pretend that life can go on as it does for other people. Whatever happens I won't let it become my life and I won't become a walking label either.
Rant over: time for my own nest where I can snuggle in and get down with the sleep sprites. I hope I get a chance to add some more tomorrow....................
The littlies have just returned to school after the Xmas break and I'm trying really hard not to fall back into the trap of doing nothing but 'house stuff' --- cleaning, washing, shopping, cooking, arranging, timetabling, tidying and then spending what time is left recovering so I have the energy to look after them all when they return home.
So far so good ...... I did a bit of rescuing ~ which is my way in life ~ (my partner felt ill this morning so I took my daughter to school and then went and did the shopping and then came home and cleaned and tidied) but I have also finished working on the image for this blog, downloaded the necessary progs. and uploaded the image onto to blog as well as typing this and uploading it. I almost feel smug !! All I have to do now is try to finish playing with this new toy and go and have a sleep so I have enough energy to go and collect my daughter, make her tea and take her to Rainbows ....how did I ever find time to do all that stuff when I was also ayt work before I became ill ??? ............maybe that's what I helped to make me ill.
I had promised myself that I wouldn't mention the CFS on this blog and here it is creeping and seeping in already. I guess I just have to accept the fact that it's so much a part of my life that it has to come in somewhere. It's like a giant cuckoo that waggles its great big bum and makes itself comfortable wherever I take the dog basket of my life --- you know how dogs do that circle before they settle and then when they settle down they sort of nestle in with th'ole backside ...well that's CFS: an unwanted visitor, a flatulent uncle who stays too long, an over chatty auntie who won't SHUT UP . Ho Hum ...maybe if I don't look out the corner of my eye the CFS beast won't realise I realise it's there and I can pretend that life can go on as it does for other people. Whatever happens I won't let it become my life and I won't become a walking label either.
Rant over: time for my own nest where I can snuggle in and get down with the sleep sprites. I hope I get a chance to add some more tomorrow....................
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
The Beginning
This is scary...........my first wend onto the path of blogging and yet having been inspired by other blogs and gained a certain amount of succour I feel it might be the right thing for me........a way to look at myself and see what I can make of this journey, this life that seems to have become so complicated over the past few years. How much shall I say..? How much shall I 'give away'...? I seem gregarious but inside I'm very private so what on earth am I doing spilling my beans to GodKnowsWho...? A chance to see if there's anyone out there really who thinks they might have any connection with my ideas and experiences. God knows I need to find some way of maintaining my own existence. Maybe I'm doing this to prove or confirm I still exist .... after years of giving and spreading myself to all and sundry I've lost my way and my way is hampered by ill health and committment ....big word that committment and I'm not even sure I have spelt it right !!
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