Victimness

 Saturday - Lyme Regis and its fossil  street lights...

Golden Cap...

 and the view from the Cobb....forever associated with Meryl Streep and the French Lieutenant's Woman.....

Sunday along the banks of the River Dart on Dartmoor at Fingle Bridge and along the ridge below Castle Drogo....

On Saturday I wake to a  brief pale rainbow.... blessing our Exeter roof tops...and believing it's a happy omen...

Later, in the brightness of Lyme Regis by the sea I'm inspired and delighted by the gorgeous array of unusual, freshly made and flavoursome salads at the Old Mill Bakery all served in an edible bread bowl. I try to explain what 'yeast' is to my husband but the task defeats me.

 I'm mellowed by the warmth of the sunshine, the fantastic performance of the constantly changing clouds over the sea, over The Cobb, over the boats in the harbour,  - the beauty of it all.

I'm patient, grateful, hopeful in the company of my husband. 

 All day on Sunday the clouds stay brooding and grey - we walk a two hour  shady circuit along the green River Dart at Fingle Bridge, the turning-gold beech trees our companions, and up into the clean air of the ridge with Dartmoor forests below us.

I ask my husband just to say Hello to the people we pass by with their dogs and their children instead of trying to make them laugh with other comments.....which embarrass me.

He says, "That's what you would say, not me." 

But still he tries.

Today the rain never stops. Instead of my yoga class I go on a shopping spree  - my friend sits outside the changing room in Marks and Spencer's and gives me a thumbs up or a shake of the head each time I come out in a different long or short  top.....so lovely not to have to decide on my own...especially as I'm feeling vulnerable and fat.

I'm already cold to my core when we drive back from Sidmouth this evening... after my husband's EFT session....debating, wondering about the unanswerable question ....How much of it is the effect of the brain disease and how much of it is a choice?  To be a two year old in pain, having a tantrum about being controlled..... or an intuitive, warm hearted sixty-one year old still with something to give - even with all the loss of his language/life as he knew it? And my part in it all....

At a roundabout he cuts in front of a car speeding fast on his right. It unbolts me...and I turn away from him, close down my love, the cold seeping into my heart, freezing any ripples of kindness as I drown in the harsh wave of victimness ......and  forget all is well.....for a little while.

Laughing Into The Wind

This afternoon my husband and I walk along a few miles of the Tiverton Canal starting at the little village of Samford Peverell........

Bursting bullrush.....

The sky tonight.....

viewed from our back garden.

Sunset supper....well, part of it...... using up all those soft tomatoes in paper bags at the back of the fridge that I forgot about, and roasting them with garlic and the last of the going-brown-at-the-edges basil from the garden.

Today I laughed  - quite a few times - enough for me to notice.....notice that it's unusual.....notice that it's rare.....my face more often serious....frowning.....distracted....

I laughed in the dentist's chair - when he was telling me a story about buying presents for his 12 year old nieces in New Look.....

I laughed at my friend's house later on when I told her how I didn't notice I'd put the protective dark glasses that the dentist gave me to wear, on my knee instead of on my face....and we carried on talking till he finally said gently - 

If you put the glasses on I can start on your teeth..

I laughed when we were walking by the canal....I was telling my husband about Roger Bannnister and the 4 minute mile....and that you could run a mile in 4 minutes.....

Unless you are 62 with a dodgy hip, like me.

And he said,

Or 61 with a dodgy brain like me.....

I laughed tonight talking to my friend on the phone when she was telling my about going to a lecture about the unconscious life of plants and an experiment on playing music to begonias  and hearing them sing....

Maybe you had to be there... for all of it.....but it was good to laugh today.....like a bullrush bursting its fluff into the wind....light, gentle, clean....and healing.

The Moon and Toast

I heard about the eclipse of the moon on the news last night - they call it a blood moon. This is the moon I woke up to this morning at 7.30am.

 A bit later, in between heavy rain showers, I take my baskets to the farmers' market which is wreathed in the aromas of breakfast wafting over from the cafes - coffee, toast, hot bakery. Even the new library is perfumed with canteen breakfast smells as I wander the aisles searching for novels.

My mobile phone rings while I'm buying carrots and celery and eggs - an invitation to join some friends for coffee ....lovely to be in their company and  savour the taste of my mocha instead of just smelling the breakfasts all around me.

Tonight I come home from my deeksha meditation group laden with more lovely cards and presents and a slab of chocolate birthday cake for my husband. The aroma of toast and bacon and grilled banana greets me - my husband is cooking his supper....and boiling an egg for me.

And so my day begins and ends with toast. And a full shining moon - the colour of egg shells -  not yet the colour of blood. 

Birthday Pictures

 My birthday morning in the harbour at Dartmouth - the steam train beyond,

rain clouds gathering over the estuary.....

sun shining after the downpour.....after our mediocre lunch...

another day we'll take this ferry to the other side....

I want to stay and walk by the water but my husband wants to go home.

While he sleeps late into the afternoon I take my camera - his birthday present to me - to the University Park,

and find reflections in the pond....

pink grasses that look like newly permed hair...

scavenging crows in the fields...

and the last clinging leaves....fluttering their silver underbellies to the sky.

Yesterday, I waded  though my day in a tidal wave of tiredness and  sudden tears...thinking maybe it's me that needs anti-depressants.. couldn't face the thought of writing a blog.... or taking  another photo.... or cooking another meal.

Today, I'm showered with birthday love - cards and presents, texts and emails and messages and kindness.

Today, I let it drain away  -  disappointment about my horrible lunch -   almost fish-free gluggy Smoked Haddock chowder in the Angel Restaurant....

and make up for it with hot coffee and a  thin slab of fudgey chocolate brownie at the Arts Centre Cafe.

Today, although it takes a little while, I let it dissolve - all that blame - my longing to walk as far as I can in the sunshine and wind along the harbour quay on my birthday - knowing my husband needs to rest, knowing it's not his fault.... and we have to go home.

And I find a way to paint different birthday pictures...rain and sun included...... and cook us my favourite supper....grilled asparagus, long stems of purple sprouting broccoli, poached eggs and homemade garlic mayonnaise....and it doesn't matter when my husband says What's garlic? 

Because that's just how it is now - on birthdays and every other day.