A Gambol that Payed Off

Photo Copy: Maggie May

We have experienced some very wet and much colder weather so I was surprised when Harry made a decision to go to Weston Super Mare on the bus. He made the decision several days before he intended us to go and as he is far from well, not having gone such a long way for at least eighteen months, I didn't really think we would end up being able to do it.

The day before his intended journey, he was still so enthusiastic that we both decided we would definitely catch the bus from Bristol Bus Station and go, no matter what the weather was like, as long as we both felt well enough on the day.

So today, we both took a haversack each filled with warm hats, scarves and gloves and waterproof jackets and I took my walking stick and boarded the bus for the hour long journey and arrived well before lunch time and found the sea was calm. The night before on the local television news there were pictures of waves spewing over cars trying to travel along the sea front road, washing over the sea wall and through some open flood gates, flooding a couple of businesses. The tide had been exceptionally high and the strong wind had not helped the situation and this hadn't been expected

. 

However when we arrived, the sun was out and the sky was blue and our skin soaked up the warmth and we walked quite a lot and browsed the shops and had little rests on benches and watched the people as they passed. 

After all this exercise, we worked up quite an appetite so we went into a little fish and chip shop and ordered Pensioner sized meals that were designed to meet with smaller appetites because we thought we ought not to eat too much fattening food.

When the meals arrived, they were on beautiful square plates and arranged appealingly and there were also two rolls with butter and two huge cups of tea. I thought we'd never get through all that food, as they turned out to be very generous helpings but we both tucked in and finished everything. The two of us agreed that it was the best meal of fish and chips that we'd ever tasted and believe me, we have had many a plateful in our lifetimes, which might account for our thickened waistlines.

We never needed to put on our woolly hats or the waterproof coats as the sun was warm and

after more walking and watching the world go by from benches, Harry said that he'd had enough and so we caught the bus home. As we neared our local area in the late afternoon, the rain fell down and it had gone cold, so once again, Harry had made the right decision to leave when we did.

Our gambol had payed off and we both felt really pleased that we took the chance and had had a really pleasant day. In fact both out moods lifted a lot.

Sometimes you really do have to go with an idea or impulse and take the chance, don't you?

 

Steps Of Life

Photos copyright: Maggie May

It seems that living is just a series of steps and at the end of the flight of steps, is our departure from this world. This seems to be another subject that people don't like to talk about but I believe that when you get to the door at the top of the steps, then life goes on. 

I happen to be a Christian so I have my own set of beliefs but I know that others have theirs.

Last week I went to my friend, Pietra's funeral and as soon as her personal choice of music started as she was brought into our church, the tears rolled down my face as I sobbed silently. However, by the time we were asked to do a Mexican Wave (yes, really....... Pietra had written her own funeral and she had a great sense of humour), we couldn't help but smile and get into the requested task and there were many people in the church so it took a while for the wave to reach the back and then go down to the front again. I went home having gained something from this experience and I learnt many things from older friends that I didn't know about her.

Now I have learnt, this morning, that one of my Blogging Buddies has died of cancer too. Moannie  whose blog was called The View From This End  will be really sadly missed. She was a very clever writer and I have been following her blog for a good few years now. 

She had the knack of writing about her life in the past and it seemed so vivid and real and she did have a great sense of humour too. She even laughed at her cancer and called it The Fecker. Her computer was called Pacco and she was always moaning about the way Pacco was behaving.

Her daughter, Saz has kept all her Followers informed of her wellbeing, in the Hospice and when she was at home and Moannie didn't feel well enough to blog herself. However, we've been informed that  Moannie did follow all the comments and news on line which makes me feel that Blogging Friendship is a very special thing.

Now to turn to the other unmentionable subject that I referred to in my last post about head lice. Yuck!

Thank you to everyone who gave me advice on the subject and I did take it all on board. I hadn't realised that I'd get so many comments.

This is a marvellous little comb that I got on line and it gets rid of everything, nits and eggs and all.

I was amused and somewhat horrified to read of one of my bloggers who was a teacher in a school and she had travelled some distance up a motorway and found a hair with nit eggs in it, stuck on the bottom of her shoe. This could have hatched out if it had come into contact with another person's hair. However these things cannot be passed on through combs and hats and pillows etc like one reader thought, unless there was a hair with a live egg on it that was transferred onto someone else's head. The lice need blood to survive and the nits need a scalp to chew on too when they hatch out. They can't live in bedding or carpets.

Anyway, as long as the other mothers have got rid of their daughters' problem too, then that should be the end of it. Everything is nit free this end! Lets hope that, with the regular use of this trusty comb after conditioning each time their hair is washed, will be an end to the possibility of any more establishing themselves in my granddaughters' hair.

I hope that this will be the end of a nasty subject.

Sadness and Frustrations

Photo Copyright: Maggie May

The only drawback to making a friend with a terminal illness is that there is going to be a sad ending and one risks being hurt.

I was first drawn to Pietra, who didn't live in Bristol but who came to my church every few weeks, because she was also suffering from cancer. Unfortunately, her outlook was not too good, but she had proved the Oncology team wrong on several occasions when she was given only months to live and had gone on for several years. We emailed regularly and I looked forward to the Church visit and felt she was a source of inspiration to me over these last few months as I got closer to her.

Now the inevitable has happened and I am really sad.

To the people who are left behind, it is really tough especially for her children, her mother and sisters.  She died very peacefully and unexpectedly without pain. She was a Christian with a strong belief and seemed to accept where she was going with anticipation and confidence. I will be left without my email friend who was a powerful prayer warrior, who put others in front of her own needs. She had encouraged me to be strong on many an occasion with my own illness by her cheerfulness and enthusiasm. Yes, she will be truly missed and certainly not just by me.

My friend Audrey has been coming weekly to help me with the heavier work in the garden. She wondered whatever had gone wrong with my Eleagnus Maculata bush that had started off as an innocent little shrub and ended up towering in height over the kitchen roof and some might describe it as a thug.

Audrey is fairly strong and for the last few weeks she bravely sawed off thick branches, while I gathered up leaves and chopped up smaller ones that soon filled up my Council garden waste bin several weeks running.

The last time Audrey came, she was merrily untangling top branches from the tree when a very angry bird started frantically squawking and flapping about. I looked up and saw a nest........ not a very tidy one at that. I halted all tree work much to Audrey's irritation. "There is no nesting in October," she retorted. I knew that, but what with Global Warming things don't necessarily follow normal patterns, do they? After searching the web for any information on late nesting and sitting under the tree regularly to watch and listen, I am none wiser about whether the nest is in use or not and that particular bird, who I think was a wren, seems to have gone away, leaving us with a flock of cheeky sparrows who use the tree to shelter in and keep an eye out when they are using the feeders in my garden.

My final frustration comes from the out break of head lice that seems to be plaguing my granddaughters. Can I really talk about such things as this in public! It would certainly not have been possibly in my youth when school nurses would examine everyones hair and send notes to parents to keep the children away from school. Then the offending child would eventually be sent to school with sticky foul-smelling chemicals on their hair and I'm sorry to say these poor children would then be taunted or avoided. It was definitely a thing to be ashamed of.

Now the whole of this middle class infants school seems to be riddled with the pests. No one seems to take much notice and the advice given is not to use chemicals because the beasts are immune to them anyway and the recommended treatment seems to be to use masses of conditioner on the hair with nit combing over and over again until they are all dragged out with broken legs. Well that would be fine if all the children did this at the same time but this seems to be a never ending infestation.

Most of the parents just shrug and say that this doesn't happen in the Senior schools because the children don't sit tightly bunched together with their hair touching the child on either side.

I went and broke the white plastic nit comb on Amber's strong, Japanese type hair and Millie, who seems to have inherited fine, English hair was just as difficult to untangle even with conditioner and I broke another one on her. They will insist on having long hair, flowing out on the shoulders like Alice In Wonderland. My children never had this problem because they always had short hair or was I just lucky?

I am soon expecting a consignment of metal nit combs to come through the post........ ordered from the Internet.

I think I will end on this itchy subject and hope the combs come in time for next weekend's slaughter when I will tackle the little blighters again. This time I will be ready for them.

Perfect Descriptions

Photo Copyright: Maggie May

Autumn is now here and the leaves are falling thick and fast and there's a chill in the air. Yes, its definitely the time to sweep up leaves and cut back the overgrown shrubs. I have been enjoying light work in the garden, while Audrey tackles the heavier tasks.

On the way back from school, Amber, my eldest granddaughter, was trying to explain to me the way a certain person, who talks nonstop at her rather than to her, makes her feel. She told me, "I feel as though I am buried in words." I can think of one or two people I know who bury me in words too. 

Millie, the youngest, was telling me how scared she was of going to sleep because she had experienced a nightmare the previous night and was worried that she might have a repeat performance when she was sleeping with us. I tucked her into bed and promised to leave the landing light on all night. After an uneventful night, I crept into her room in the morning to find her just rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. I asked her if she had dreamed or not and she replied, "It was total darkness." I was a bit perplexed as I'd left the light on as promised and I pointed this out to her. Then I realised that she meant that there were no dreams that she could remember. It was just as though she had turned the dream screen off (like a T.V set) and that the screen was blank or black.

I think these two interpretations of different situations were very descriptive.

I think only a child can come up with this type of imagination while describing........ or am I wrong?

Its Time For Sedum Again

Photo Copyright: Maggie May

The Sedum are out again, which means that Autumn is well under way. They really are beautiful plants and these ones derived from one plant that I bought many years ago, Sedum Autumn Joy. They tend to seed themselves around the garden but not in an invasive way and I quite like the way they grow in unexpected places and I usually let them grow where they choose.

Unfortunately the spent heads don't last very long after flowering, so I cut them off to avoid them ending up in a soggy mess when the winter rain and cold make them disintegrate. They don't last long in the house either as I tried that.

Usually on a Friday I go and collect Millie, my youngest granddaughter, from school, bring her back for tea and then the two of us set off for Brownies. I am still managing to help out there and know many of the children and parents. There is usually some form of craft involved as well as a few team games and activities. There are three older girls who are helping out regularly because they are taking their Duke Of Edinburgh Award, so all the energetic activities and moving of tables and chairs is left to them. I settle for helping with the crafts and talking to and encouraging the girls in their various activities.

I quite look forward to Fridays and after Brownies, Millie comes back to our house and stays the night. She is picked up after lunch the next day. This usually involves us helping with homework and letting Millie choose what she'd like to eat.

I asked her if she didn't miss her sister and her two newly acquired siblings and was fairly surprised that she answered *no* she enjoys being the centre of attraction in our house because she says that she is the one who is *left out* in her new position of sharing in her home as a *new* family with Sandy and her children. "I must get a room to myself" she says as I snuggle her up into our large bedroom that is kept purely for visits from family. I believe Sam and Sandy are going to make more rooms in their loft, but that will take time. In the meanwhile Millie enjoys *lying in* the next morning with no other sibling trying to tip her out of bed. She then has a long bubble-bath and hair wash. So she gets a bit spoilt at our house.

I am pleased to say that my friend, Audrey is now coming to our house weekly to do an hours gardening for me. I pay her, as then she can be asked to do specific things without me feeling awkward about it. This has inspired me to do some light work out there too. It is surprising how an hours work can make all the difference to an untidy garden. I find Fridays come round so fast and I really don't know how I used to fit in all the work and activities that I used to do. 

Winding Down

Photo Copyright: Maggie May

It seems that we have been waiting all summer for some sun but it has been an abominable spring and summer and we are still waiting for good weather, here in England. Now there is that hint of coldness in the early mornings and the evenings are drawing in. It will seem a long winter next time round after having no summer weather at all.

I am making slow progress, not so much pain now but pins and needles all down one leg and a really strange heavy feeling in it. I am definitely unable to do many of the tasks that I took for granted before.

I have had to arrange help for the gardening and that is quite frustrating.

I am beginning to appreciate the way my parents felt when they were winding down, but at the time it was happening, I didn't really understand how they felt about letting go and I used to get irritable with them. Maybe this is what happens throughout the generations. Maybe this is how its always been and always will be. Maybe everyone will know what it feels like when their turn comes and then they will remember how it was with their parents. Or maybe they won't.

I still cannot pick up the rabbits but am able to clean them out a bit better now. Makes me wonder if I should have them at all really if I can't see to all their needs. However, they do make us both laugh with their antics and the way they chase each other round their run and up the ramp into their sleeping quarters and back again. They like to trash their bedding and throw out all the hay. They seem to be laughing at me when I have to pick it up with my long handled grasper and put it all back in order, only to have them do the same thing all over again. Its a bit like when a baby chucks the rattle from out of its pram and realises there is a little game to be had when a grown up comes and pick it up again only for the same thing to happen repeatedly. The grown up gets fed up before too long. The rabbits don't seem to get fed up with this game though.

Hoping that readers will be enjoying the beginning of autumn or the beginning of spring, if you are in the southern hemisphere and that your weather is behaving in a way that is normal for where you are.

Coming Out of Hybernation

Photo Copyright: Maggie May

I feel as though I am awakening from a nightmare. Slowly, little by little, I am beginning to be able to sit for longer periods of time without one side of my body going into painful spasms. I have a slightly bigger range of movement and I can now lie in bed all night and get up by myself. Poor Harry has been to Hell and back because he has had to do everything for me even though he is far from well himself. He has been a wonderful help to me and has never lost patience when he had to get up to rescue me sometimes for the third time in the night. 

We take so much for granted. When I was really incapacitated, I used to watch other people bend down to retrieve something from the floor, scratch a foot, stroke an animal and all the other things that people do without a second thought and I really wondered if I'd ever be able to do those things again. If it wasn't for Harry, then I would have had to put my rabbits into care because I couldn't clean them out or do anything for them. I shed many tears over this and it is remarkable how they adapted to Harry's very different ways of doing things and how he grew to really love them while they bonded with each other.

 I think it will take a good while to be able to do all the things that I used to do and I will be lucky if I ever get back to *normal*.

Friends rallied round and made all sorts of offers and little gestures that helped when I was at my lowest ebb. I am so grateful to those people.

The Council have installed extra stair rails and all sorts of equipment to help me to keep in my own home. I think it is less costly for them to do this than having me in hospital and I'm still waiting for my physiotherapist appointment to come through.

I am waiting for an appliance to come through the post that will help me to put my socks on. Have you ever thought how house bound you'd be if you couldn't get shoes, socks/stockings on?

 I have been reading other peoples' blogs more over the last week or so and have even left the odd comment on some.

Hoping to be able to spend more time in the cyber world as I get stronger and if I haven't visited your blog yet, then I shall try to do so very soon.

Many thanks for your faithfulness and good wishes and your obvious relief and joy that my scan was clear of cancer.