Dolls to Nicaragua

If you've a mind, you might like to mosey on over to CraftHope.com.

It's a site about a web-based project encouraging people to make items for disadvantaged and children. The current project is about making rag dolls for children who live in an orphanage in Nicaragua.

I made this oneAl the dolls had to have brown skin, brown eyes and black or brown hair so that they resemble the children who will 'adopt' them. I didn't have any brown material to hand so I dyed some calico with coffee and vanilla. She's got black wool hair from some boucle wool I had over so I made them into a pony tail which looks kind of dread-locky. She's not perfect but Craft Hope isn't looking for perfection --- just simple items made with love.. In the past they've needed clothes.

I think it's a lovely idea and even though I had to send the doll to the US for shipping off to Nicaragua it only cost £2.50

If you've time and a needle and thread go and take a look.

Life's little trials and tribulations

It's been an eventful few days and I feel like I am being tested and coached through life's little hurdles.

The first event relates to TDS (The Dental Saga). For a couple of weeks, one of the teeth that needs removing has been grumbling away and giving me real 'gip' with pain not only in that tooth but into my sinuses and jaw. You'll remember that last month I received the news that my dentist said she could not deal with all my medical issues and was going to refer me to hospital...so I was trying to stall the tooth problem with Ibuprofen and homeopathic remedies.

Last Wednesday I could stand it no longer. I had managed to struggle to my son's school to see him in the Summer Term play and in the midst of Act Two my tooth decided to launch into a real attack to the point where I felt physically sick --bastard tooth ! I was pretty wiped out by the whole experience but after a lot more Ibuprofen I got through another day of waiting and hoping the whole thing would go away. Stupid Cusp ! Got worse and I was forced to confront the issue so that late Thursday afternoon I found myself phoning the dentist and asking for an emergency appointment. Friday afternoon was the appointed hour.

I knew that Conscious Sedation was not going to be an option because
a) I am unable to comply with the two hour fasting rule and
b) that treatment option needs to be pre-planned...so I was just going to have to tough it out.

Cue sleepless Thursday night and much resting Friday morning.

Friday afternoon came and off we went --my partner driving us there because I knew I would need to be driven home. This isn't any old tooth ---it's a nice big fat lower 7 (the one before the wisdom). Very scared and brave Cusp enters room and (to spare you the gory details) emerges rather wobbly 30 minutes later 'sans' tooth.

I am now rather sore and a bit bruised but also rather proud of myself. Unfortunately at some point I shall have to go through the same process twice more but at least I have managed to get to the dentist and have the offending item removed. It can only be good for my general health and I am resting as much as possible in order to try and stave off any ill effects.

The second event is more about the flow of life's river really and the trials and test that confront you once you have children. Today my youngest (who is nearly 11) left for 5 days to go on a school trip to the far north-east coast.


She will be hundreds of miles away (further than France ..as one helpful teacher pointed out) and not back until Friday evening. She is nervous but incredibly excited and looking forward to what will be a fantastic break after all the hard work of the past months for the dreaded SATS which she took last week. I have been anticipating and dreading it for weeks. I have not been really able to think about it without tears coming to my eyes.

has been away before...sleep overs and even for 3 days when she was Year 4 (two years ago) but not so far. She is at a point in her little life where she is on the cusp (!) between childhood and teenage years but in many ways she is still a little girl and she is my baby. It breaks my heart to put her in the care of strangers for five days and let her,what seems, so far away --especially when we have been specifically told not to contact the children unless it is an absolute emergency because to do so only increases the risk of them getting homesick. This is sensible stuff and I know this is another step in letting her go into the big wide world. She must go and I must let her spread her wings and face all the joys and tribulations of living her own life. In years to come there will be a trip further away, University, making her own home, finding a partner......and this is part of the process.

I know she'll find it hard at times and I am reminded of myself at almost exactly the same age going on a school trip to Scandinavia on a ship for 10 days. No mobiles, no letters, no phone calls in 1967....we got on the ship at Tilbury and were gone. As a parent now I can see how hard it must have been for my parents and grandmother to let me go. They were going through what I must go through now.

I can still see them waving me off...smiling and then probably getting back for a good old weep in the Austin as it made its way home. I wrote about that trip once before. I remember the hard bits, the homesickness, the homesickness of other children and feeling so, so far way from home bobbing about on the North Sea in April and seeing seals and dolphins and fjords and the lovely Norwegian people.......so warm and friendly. I remember it all in such detail and despite the difficulties I remember all the good bits too and that's how it will be for my daughter...a lesson in how to survive and be alone, being independent, enjoying self-reliance and savouring the good times.

She'd better send me a postcard , God love her !! ;0)

Eurovision: Apres Toi ~ Vicki Leandros

As it's Eurovision weekend I thought I'd post up a song from 1972 sung by wonderful Vicki Leandros.

Just shows how the the quality of the songs has deteriorated over the years. Last night I was up at 2 a.m. and came across the semi final of this year's spectacle in Moscow. Never have I seen such a load of old codswallop (well I have but only on Eurovision over the past 15 years or so). It seems they now try to make up for the lack of songwriting quality by wearing funny costumes and having acrobats twirling round or skaters skating or strange oversized props.

Blogging for M.E. Awareness Day: Just keeping in Touch

Hello my dear,

You've been so busy lately. Searching everywhere for something.

I'm not sure what it is you're hoping to find but I doubt you'll find it anyway. Sorry I don't have any clues for your search. Still, I am sorry that all your efforts have kept us apart. I enjoy our little conversations:it's really not the same when you pretend to only pay me scant attention.
After all you know I'm never very far away.

I like to keep in touch and I'm always here

should you find the need to talk

feel my prescence

the touch of my hand.


You and I have been through so much together.

****************

Do you remember when we first met ?

You were only 18: your whole life before you.
You thought a few days, even weeks off school might be quite nice: a chance to duck the pressure of 'A' levels and the relentless monotony of school.

Bet you never thought we'd form such a close bond and I'd still be around when you're in your fifties.

Of course, the irony is that whilst you continue to age, I never grow old really.
You grow older and less strong. I remain vigorous and able to maintain my grip.

****************

I want you to know that despite what other people might say I really do enjoy watching you go out.
You go ! I'm not stopping you.
I'm only just around the corner anyway and you know I'll be here at home when you get back.
I wouldn't want you to be lonely
Just so long as you tell me where you're going,
how long you think you'll be,
who you'll be with.

I wouldn't want to lose you, now would I ?

We wouldn't want to lose each other.

I'd be lost without you and you wouldn't know where to start without me after so long.

****************


Oh, by the way, I noticed that you've been taking those tablets again.

Who sold you those then ? ...................that person in the health shop ?

I don't think we should trust her.

She's very nice...well meaning, but honestly she'll only come between us.

I don't think she likes me. Can't think why.........


__________________
No.
I've decided.
I don't want you to see her anymore.
She's trouble

.........and that doctor who told you to rest up in the day: resting will do you no good.
You should just plough on with whatever it is you want to do.

***************

What's that ?

But you get so tired........exhausted ?
Your muscles get all achey and you can't think straight ?
You feel all confused and foggy ?

You're imagining it.

It's all in your head.

You're neurotic.

The trouble with you is you're weak; don't know your own mind

That's what I mean when I tell you to rely on me.
I can be strong when you are weak. I'll be your rock.


****************


I do know better, really I do ...for all the right reasons.
I know what you need better than you do yourself.
You know you can rely on me...even when other people have let you down
Haven't I always been there for you ?
I keep my promises.

Look what happens when you've tried to go it alone, when you've listened to all those experts, all those people who say they can help you: you're lost.
You need to pay attention to me.
Even when you think I've done something to you or for you that's bad (as you see it)
it's only because I love you,
because of this strong bond we've developed over all these years.

****************

If you'd only stay close by none of this trouble would happen.
You're always trying to give me the slip.

Don't think I don't know, don't see what you're up to. You want to get away from me.
I've told you before we're good for each other. We need to stay close.

I was made for you.
We were made for each other...hand in glove.
Together forever.

Don't disappoint me by trying to escape.
I've given you everything you have.
That's why I feel so hurt when you want to see other people,
do other things,
spend proper time with your family.


It's only because I love you...you do see that don't you ?


Don't go off again looking for something better.
It's not out there anyway.
Those other people are charlatans set on breaking us up.

Better to stay here with me.
We know each other so well.

All that stuff outside....not a patch on what we've got.
Stay here and I'll never leave you.
Nobody knows you like I do.

*****************


What's that they say ?

'Better the devil you know.'

Well I'm not exactly a devil am I?


You know who I am.....just myself...just ME

If you haven't read the post below please do.
Yet another person with M.E. has been sectioned under the Mental Health Act.
I cannot tell you how much this angers and saddens me.

Brain Nicholson: another person with M.E. sectioned under the Mental Health Act

As we are about to go into ME Awareness Week you might like to be aware and spare a thought for poor Brian Nicholson who has been sectioned under the mental health act for delusional illness beliefs in relation to ME.

Brian also has POTS and it seems that, having failed to gain proper medical help and treatment, he was effectively abandoned by medical professionals. Brian then tried to help himself by upping his intake of water (which is partly helpful for people with POTS). It was then thought that the amount of water he was drinking was dangerously high and warranted a diagnosis of abnormal illness belief and subsequently sectioning under the Mental Health Act

What an appalling state of affairs. Pray to God he doesn't end up like poor Sophia Mirza

If you want to know more about Brian, support him and let him know you are thinking of him visit the Support group at Facebook


Sometimes the psychiatric profession have a lot to answer for with their imperious manner and delusional belief in complete and infallibele judgement.

Awful or not ?: Tina Charles - I Love To Love (1976)

Part of me thinks I really should regard this as awful old schlock because it's so repetitive and because of Tina's hard voice but I still love it for all the memories of warm summers and nearly falling off my platforms when I was going out on the town in the 70s.

Happy Times and a happy song

Awful Songs No. ? lost count :Jeane Manson - Roses of Picardy

Aha....caught you ! Just when you thought it was safe and I'd forgotten my thread about awful songs I decided to reawaken the beast.

I absolutely detest this song. That's probably more to do with memories of it on a school trip (and, no,even though it's a very old song I wasn't at school in 1909 ). There's just something about it that grates.

Now I WAS going to treat you to the Vince Hill version ('Edelweis's is another pet hate...especially his version) but that little gem is now off YouTube: perhaps the nice people at YouTube decided it was kinder to spare their customers such a vile and hideous rendition.

Anyroadup...I then came upon this version which is altogether more awful for not only have they chosen a dreadful tune but they have then given it
a) the whole 70s disco-y treatment and
b) given that treatment a kind of sickly ickly makeover in a way that only the french know how when they do their own version of Variety. One day I'll treat you to a Claude Francois video, if you're very good, and you'll see what I mean

Oh you lucky people ! Wherelse could you find such schlock !

Enjoy !

(Don't you just love those poor herberts prancing about at the back of Ms. Manson: camp as a row of tents)

Properly stuffed now !

Warning ! This post has been written in a spirit of exasperation, anger and general fed-upness. There may well be words contained therein which could offend the meek and gentle. I don't feel meek or gentle at the moment so if you possess and exude such qualities, please desist from reading the post below as you may be offended by 'language'.

If you have been dropping by for some little while you may remember the ongoing saga with the old gnashers. Bloody Teeth !

Amongst the notsofragrant days of recent past there have been my rather pathetic and inept attempts to have three teeth removed

No, Silly, not removing them myself, though that might be one solution --but to get myself to a dentist who will remove them for me.

Now for anybody else, the removal of teeth may be daunting but not terribly complicated. For the person with M.E. it is not so straightforward. Nothing ever bloody is for the person with M.E.

After much soul-searching and trepidation I did get myself to the dentist in November to ask eversonicely if she could accommodate a poor quaking soul such as I (who doesn't like dentists at the best of times) and remove said offending gnashers -- but gently and nicely. After some discussion it was agreed that the probable best course was to put me in a dreamlike state known as Conscious Sedation and a date was set for February.

December came and went and likewise January.

Cusp was poorly and not well at all -- certainly not well enough to have gnashers ripped out --dreamlike state or not.

A new date was set for March.

By this time Cusp was a little better but having all sorts of complicated symptoms thanks to low blood sugar and having to eat every hour and nothing too sweet or carb-y. The useless doctor refused point blank to bandy words like 'hypoglycemia' or to offer any help so it was up to me to try and sort it on my ownsome.

And then .......it was at this point that the nice dentist let slip that actually you had to fast for two hours before having the nice dreamy drug prior to removal of teeth. She had not mentioned any of this in November.

Cusp was cross and felt led astray with a false promise.

This was a great blow for I had put a lot of faith in this modus operandi for extraction. The new morsel of information which she had forgotten to impart made me think that all was lost:
there was no way I could fast for two hours before she set about me plus fast for another hour or two whilst she extracted and I came round and got home
.....so I cancelled at the last minute and she was everso cross but courteous

(Do you think dentist have a special ability to speak nicely through very white and perfect gritted teeth ?)

I wrote a very apologetic letter and said maybe we could think of another way ---- even including me being everso, everso brave and 'just' having a local anaesthetic and her pulling the nasty buggers: thus no fasting just courage (Mon Brave )

I have waited a month now and yesterday morning I received a letter in reply saying she likes me everso much but really I'm just too bloody complicated and difficult to contend with health-wise so please can she shake me off her books and refer me to the hospital.

I think that may be a caring way (and she is caring) of saying 'Sod off, you're just too much trouble and you keep cancelling and wasting my time and money'. Fair enough really. I'm sure the likes of PWME are a nightmare for the dental and medical profession.

To her way of thinking hospital referral seems my best solution. For me it is all the more terrifying for you see, dear reader, hospital probably means general anaesthetic and PWME don't want to touch GAs with a bargepole as they have the potential for spelling BIG TROUBLE :long, long recovery, relapse and all sorts of nasties; especially if you are already trying to climb the slippery slope up from a relapse already ......like moi.

So....proper stuffed now

....and what do I do ?

....No idea.

I have written to the dentist again asking if she might refer me to the Community Dental Team who deal with all manner of complicated buggers like me on a daily basis.

Will they have any idea about what to do with me ?

Probably not but it's worth a try

What a mess

OH, I WISH I'D LOOKED AFTER MY TEETH
by
Pam Ayres



Oh, I wish I'd looked after me teeth,
And spotted the perils beneath,
All the toffees I chewed,
And the sweet sticky food,
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me teeth.

I wish I'd been that much more willin'
When I had more tooth there than fillin'
To pass up gobstoppers,
From respect to me choppers
And to buy something else with me shillin'.

When I think of the lollies I licked,
And the liquorice allsorts I picked,
Sherbet dabs, big and little,
All that hard peanut brittle,
My conscience gets horribly pricked.

My Mother, she told me no end,
"If you got a tooth, you got a friend"
I was young then, and careless,
My toothbrush was hairless,
I never had much time to spend.

Oh I showed them the toothpaste all right,
I flashed it about late at night,
But up-and-down brushin'
And pokin' and fussin'
Didn't seem worth the time... I could bite!

If I'd known I was paving the way,
To cavities, caps and decay,
The murder of fiIlin's
Injections and drillin's
I'd have thrown all me sherbet away.

So I lay in the old dentist's chair,
And I gaze up his nose in despair,
And his drill it do whine,
In these molars of mine,
"Two amalgum," he'll say, "for in there."

How I laughed at my Mother's false teeth,
As they foamed in the waters beneath,
But now comes the reckonin'
It's me they are beckonin'
Oh, I wish I'd looked after me teeth.

HAPPY EASTER

I hope you all have a lovely peaceful, warm Easter full of chocolate

Many thanks for all your messages of positive encouragement.

They mean a lot to me

I am getting there but slowly

*********

Little signs of hope in a pinched existence

Daffodils courtesy of http://www.freefoto.com

Today my Mum would have been 85. She died five years ago. I wish she was still here to talk to. I miss her and I especially miss her when going through a rough patch such as the one which seems reluctant to let go of me since the New Year.

I'm still here and struggling to get everything done that has to be done and, in the present situation, that means there's little left for 'niceties' like writing the blog and following other blogs. I know this is wrong. I know that I should make time for the little things that cheer in order to take the strain off the rest of the load but it just don't seem possible: I'm either doing what has to be done or in bed.

I hate this pinched existence and I'm trying desperately to make up lost ground. I miss you all and miss the interactivity and random relationships of blog-world but even the computer seems against me --- all sorts of problems and then wretched Blogger/Google decided to lock me out earlier in the week by refusing to accept the password I have had and has been accepted for over a year so that I couldn't even leave comments on others blogs.

Today the sun is shining and the daffodils are coming up --- little signs of hope.

Great Dusty Song

I've been listening to quite a lot of Dusty the last few days and rediscovered a great story song she did in the 70s. It's not well known at all but it conjures up all sorts of images and plots for me.To me it's very filmic.

No videos on YouTube but you can hear it on Last FM.


here

Only but not alone

It's all anniversaries at the moment. Five years ago today my mother died. All those months of hospital appointments, hospice visits, arrangements for carers, nurses...all the conversations on the phone. All the times I cursed my own ill health for obstructing me from visiting, supporting as much as I wanted and needed to...and the suddenly it was all over. She had gone. I'd done my best and now it was time to tidy up. put things in order, say goodbye and move forward.

I'm not sad today...just recognising a passing. My mother spent much of her life in ill health but she always got back up and moved forward. She was gentle and kind. I give thanks that I was blessed with such loving parents. Being an only child makes you closer still and my mother was an 'only' too. Now she's gone there is no Cusp family from before...only the one here now --- me, my partner and our two children. I see my mother in my daughter...her eyes, her shyness, her sense of humour, her creativity and I know that, whatever the truth about life, death, God that we all live on in our children and our children's children.

Dusty Springfield 16.4.39 - 2.3.99

Ten years since Dusty died: my favourite singer and, close to my heart for all sorts of reasons, her songs are part of the soundtrack to my life.

Dusty was a pioneer of white soul, a brilliant interpreter of songs by Bacharach, Randy Newman, Jacques Brel and many of the other best song writers of that era -- Mann & Weil, Goffin & King. She could sing ballads, country, soul, folk and pop and suffuse any song with real emotion and her own individual ‘take’: she always gave her all.

Dusty was often seen as just another 60s girl singer in the line with Lulu, Sandie and Cilla but she fought hard for the integrity of her work and, although she was given no credit at the time, she in fact produced and co-produced many of her songs. She strived to reproduce an authentic soul sound in studios peopled by old fashioned musicians more used to backing Cliff or Adam Faith. Her feistiness and perfectionism often led to accusations of tyrannical behaviour but she knew what worked, wanted the best and wouldn’t be satisfied until she got it.

Dusty lauded and promoted Motown in the UK. After the disastrous Motown UK ‘Ghost Tour’ (so called because hardly anyone came to the concerts) she fought hard to ensure that authentic performances of Motown music were heard by more people in the UK and that Motown artists were properly recognised. Most people in the UK only knew that music through the tepid interpretations of home grown groups like The Beatles and The Stones. With Dusty’s backing and persuasion the Ready Steady Go Motown Special was brought to ITV. Almost certainly, without her backing it would probably never have happened but thanks to her the wonderful joyful sound of acts like Martha and the Vandellas, The Supremes, Four Tops etc became more widely heard and appreciated.

Partly on the back of making her 1969 classic album ‘Dusty in Memphis’, where she worked with the same musicians and producers as Aretha, Dusty moved to the US and more or less stayed there until the mid 80s. Life in the US was tough and she had a hard time emotionally, spiritually and financially. Lack of self confidence and never being able to accept that what she created was good enough led to all sorts of difficulties but gradually she pulled through. In the 80s she found renewed success with the Pet Shop Boys and moved home to the UK.

Finally in the 90s her real talent and achievements were recognised but she became ill with breast cancer and finally succumbed to the disease in 1999. She died on the day she had been due to go to Buckingham Palace to receive her OBE. Officials of St James’s Palace gave permission for the medal to be collected by Springfield's manager, Vicki Wickham, who presented it to Dusty in hospital.

Her death really affected me: not because I am an obsessive fan but because I had followed her from childhood and so many of her songs are connected to key moments in my life. She was creative, talented, rebellious, principled, funny and generous. I never met her. She died ten days after my father. I miss them both.

Here’s a lovely clip from the RSG Motown Special of Dusty singing with Martha and the Vandellas who were already close friends

Some links to other tributes:

Pop Junkie

The Wild Reed

The Music's Over

Dusty Springfield Network

Liza Minelli and Pet Shop Boys: Losing My Mind

Glad to see the PSB doing so well at The Brits. I love their witty and rather sour lyrics from the 80s. This is a cover of Stephen Sondheim song. Not always sure about Liza but her 'on the edge' nutiness seesm just right for this song and interpretation

Blossom Dearie - Quiet Nights

Judicicial Review of NICE guidelines for M.E.

Not well at the moment and it seems that all progress has gone in reverse.

Maybe this will change things ...though I doubt it: too many vested interests and political shenanigans around M.E. to give me much hope.

Short and Fraser are brave men to try and have the NICE guidelines for M.E. overturned.

All power to those souls who can get to London to support them.

Tony Hart R.I.P.

For those of us born in the 50s and 60s 'Vision On' was an essential part of teatime telly. I loved 'Vision On' because it was about art, creativity and it seemed very inclusive with warm and gentle presenters who weren't 'gung ho' or trendy but still encouraging. I loved the fact that the programme was signed for deaf children and the feeling that everybody was joining in. Although I loved art I was never brave enough to enter a picture for the hallowed 'Gallery' but I tried out the ideas and had all the annuals.

The mainstay of the programme was Tony Hart -- a quiet and seemingly modest uncle figure. He died yesterday and there are many tributes to him all over the Web. Recently I read an article about him in The Observer which mentioned that he had had two strokes over recent years which affected his ability to use his hands and to draw. On a day when I was regretting my own loss of past abilities, that thought brings me up short and makes me realise how lucky I am to have what I do have. His beloved wife had also died a few years ago and left him lonely and lost so I imagine that, from his point of view, his passing is a relief.

He has left a great legacy in terms of art, creativity and broadcasting. When I compare the programmes he appeared on with supposedly similar programmes for children now I know that something has been lost in the desperate desire to make children's' programming hip, cool and strident. The nearest equivalent we nearly had to Tony was Mark Speight who used to appear on 'SMART'. He too sadly died a few years back.

Children's' programme makers would be wise to look at these two sites (here and here) and reconsider how best to entertain and educate children in the future.

Thanks Tony.

Dreadful songs No. 6: Aneka - Japanese boy 1981

Right gang, enough with the old moans and groans: time for something REALLY grim to moan about.

This is one of the most vile, bizarre 80s concoctions I can think of: a scottish woman dressed up like a cross between a tupperware-party-touting housewife and a geisha singing a song about a Japanese Boy in a nasal, vaguely Celtic accent whilst encapsulating almost every cliche about Japan you can think of....eventhe melody seems to have been written on all the blacknotes by a ten year old on one of those Bontempi organs for kiddies.

Can you tell I don't like it ?

You couldn't even dance to it as evidenced by all the nice neat couples SITTING DOWN as she warbles on.

Can't remember if she did another song after this travesty. Maybe she had a string of hits: Japanese Boy, Australasian Boy, Tyrolian Boy, French Boy, Dirty Boy, Naughty Boy...same song wit tweaked arrangement and she changed her costume and put in the odd national cliche on the backing track --- didgereedoo, alpine horn, accordian, damp flannel, sharp slap on the wrist.

Do you think she bought that indoor areial on her head from Argos ?

Snakes & Ladders

Well, long time no see/hear/write and I feel like I have been neglecting this blog and you, dear reader.

It’s been nothing personal --- nothing you’ve done. I’m still very fond of you but circumstances have been against me for a while and I have had to concentrate upon those things which have to be done rather than those things which I’d like to do: like attend to my blog.

Before Christmas, partner was first told that hours would be reduced because of financial shortfall at employers :

Cue Famille Cusp shivering in dark corner wondering where the next scheckel will come from.

Shortly afterwards a number of employees cleared off saying they could not survive on reduced hours and had found alternative employ and then others were very poorly with the Christmas lurgy:

Cue partner not having reduced hours but increased hours and trying to fill in for the people who were no longer at work or able to get to work.

Cue Cusp trying to do all usual Cuspish chores-domestique plus many of the other things partner usually does.

Cue Tired Cusp and Failing Cusp and then Christmas.

Christmas passed by in an interesting manner. Baby Jesus hath smiled upon the Cusp Household in that we did not fall low in the face of the dreadful flu bug which seemed to beset all and sundry around and about us but son of Cusp did succumb to funny virus and infection in eye . The latter was very worrying since he is already visually impaired and has glaucoma.

Cue many trips to hospital and checks and drops and unguents.

All better now --- well nearly ----but it made for a quiet-ish Christmas with many trips up and down stairs with trays of food, providing company, watching videos, DVDs, PS2 games and many trips to hospital and calls to NHS Direct; not being sure if an array of symptoms were due to eye drops’ side effects or funny virus or both.

Cue Cusp and partner v.tired after Christmas

….and..breath….ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ;0)

So that’s what I done in my holidays, innit, and now it is taking many a day to try and pull everything together again and feel like I have some control over the domestics and myself for I have not able to rely on my body (not that I EVER feel I can rely on it) for weeks.

When things are poodling along in their usual family-life kind of way it is relatively (and I say RELATIVELY) easy to try and fit my energy management regime around circumstances and stay on an evenish keel. I can more or less tell what I can manage and what I cannot. I can more or less tell how far I can push my limits without disaster. God knows I have had enough practice in managing what’s left of my energy. But when I am beset by unusual, unpredictable circumstances the whole thing goes to pot. I cannot rest when I need to. There are things that have to be done, people that have to be cared for, animals that have to be fed, cleaned out, walked. It’s no good taking on all the sensible advice about ignoring housework and only doing what you have to do because what has to be done in this house when unusual circumstances arise is more than I can really cope with but they have to be done.

And now there is beginning to be some semblance of the day-to-day routine that passes for normality Chez Cusp…and I am at sea: unable to get used to being alone again, occasionally liking the solitude and the next moment hating it, feeling as if I should be doing something productive but not knowing what and having a horrible feeling that life is passing me by, has passed me by.

….and breath…………………

Life is complicated and I am at that point (as is oft the case with PWME or any other chronic illness) where I could shake a fist at the sky and tell the whole damned thing to clear off, leave me alone, I’ve done my time, I’ve made my amends, done all the right things, listened to the advice, listened to the doctor, the healer, the insurance company and none of it has done any good. All that works is time passing and being careful and cautious and biding my time. I feel like I’m in some religious order locked away from the world. Maybe I should buy a habit ?

Rachel (The Creative One) sums up the dilemma very well:

‘Motivation is not an issue with this illness. Desire to do more, be more, is never a problem’

You progress, you want more, you do more, you wait, you wonder, you fall or carry on ….you’ve done more, you progress….but there’s always that hesitancy, that fear, that feeling of being unreliable to your self and to others so that you don’t feel able to jump back into the game.

As one of her commenters (Nina) puts it:

‘………you can’t be successful there unless you can continuously produce! I, too have gotten (what to me seems) much better, but when I’m in the real world, I realize it’s a relatively tiny improvement…’

And there’s the dilemma again for you can do all the right things but it’s never enough. The rest of the world moves too fast and unless you live on an island worldly matters impinge on your progress and you depend on the love and care of others to survive ---as we all do.

This ME life is one of snakes and ladders

Merry Christmas