A Quieter Day

A juvenile Tree Creeper inside the conservatory at Montacute House in Somerset ( now of Wolf Hall fame) which we visited with my sister and a picnic on Sunday.

 And in the gardens, more falcons on perches in an open tent, shaded from the sun  

sitting perfectly still,

waiting to demonstrate their grace in flight.

And the sweetest damsons I've ever tasted from a row of trees in the car park - 

just going to waste. Robin reached up with his good left arm to pick them for us.

The apples on the top branches of our tree may go to waste as well as our gardener cancelled this morning with a knee problem. On Sunday evening I took the ladder out of the shed and picked as many as I could without scaring myself from the highest rung. I never knew how scratchy it was in the middle of an old knarled apple tree and how tantalising not to be able to pick the biggest reddest apples aways just a wobble on the ladder and a finger tip out of reach. 

A much quieter day than yesterday.... as if all that raging had never been.. or maybe it's been and gone now - washed out of my system. I can't say I've loved myself out of it  - just feel calmer. Robin at The Mede for the day....the joy of the vegetables at the Farmers' market....the balm of coffee and  company of lovely friends......the satisfaction of making headway with the tax return paperwork for the accountant....mixing up raw chocolate seedy nut bars with dates and coconut oil ( recipe from the Food Babe - a sort of healthy Rocky Road bar) - a  not too sweet treat for an emergency snack attack on my supposed to be sugar free diet.

And now I could love myself much more by going to bed.

Who Do I Become....?

Before breakfast I watch Matt Kahn's most recent UTube video. He's an inspiration to me - he teaches 

Whatever arises -love that. 

He says the new spiritual question to replace Who am I? is 

Who do I become when I don't get what I want?

And who do I become when the other person doesn't get what they want?

Today I discovered the answer to that - in spades. All the ugliness of it.

Robin's Wednesday walking group is cancelled at short notice. So I lose my respite but decide to make the best of it. Mistake. 

 Late morning we bake Cherry Shortbread biscuits and Sugar Coated Cinnamon Almonds and then walk into town to do some shopping - his favourite thing. He says he doesn't mind waiting while I try on T-shirts in the Gap sale. But when I want him to try on jackets in M&S to replace the one one he's had for years, too small now, he doesn't want to.

Who do I become? Someone who withdraws their love and approval.

Back home, 2pm, he doesn't want to eat lunch and goes for a sleep. I eat mine in sunshine on the patio and leave his plate on the counter. He wakes up at 4pm says he doesn't want lunch. I want him to eat it before we go to Exmouth.

He wants to eat nuts and popcorn. I say no.

Who do I become?  Someone who is vindictive, angry, controlling and punishing.

I say I don't want to go to Exmouth. He's so upset I agree.

Who do I become? Someone full of rage and resentment.

In Exmouth he wants to go to the One Pound Shop. I want to walk by the sea.

He buys biscuits and an ice cream and says he only wants to do a short walk. We turn round after a few minutes and go back to the car.

Who do I become? Someone full of self hatred and despair. A long way from Home.

Matt would say be honest, don't pretend you aren't these things, thank them, they are your way out, just love them even more.

A step beyond me today.....maybe tomorrow though.

My Angel Wings

Ducks in the park.....

I'm lying on a long thick sheepskin rug

listening to the soft voice of my Family Constellation teacher.

She's taking me on a walk, gently through my body

which is buzzing and exhausted

after all that shouting and crying

and hitting cushions with my fists.

Letting the safe air receive

the shriek of my expletives,

the howl of my tears.

When we reach my collarbones on this body walk 

she says,

These are the oldest bones in the body

where our wings were once attached.

She means when we first crawled -  or flew -  out of the primordial swamp.

She says,

Imagine the size of your wings

where they can take you

up high 

so you can see the vista of your dreams and

everything you long for.

Imagine the feel of your wings

when they wrap you at night in sleep.

But I imagine they are my angel wings,

huge and iridescent.

Outstretched:

holding us all

fiercely

with love.

Folded in:

embracing my heart.

(House Martin Angel - top of Glastonbury Tor last September)

A Close Up View

On Saturday we drove to Glastonbury...remembering that we spent our first wedding anniversary there at the end of September 29 years ago. Last year, about this same time we had lunch at the Rainbow's End Vegetarian cafe in the town and then walked up to the top of the Tor and enjoyed the magnificent views of Somerset and the Mendips rolled out below us.

This time we had a big salad lunch in the same cafe but Robin didn't want to walk to the Tor.  I had a feeling he might not want to but still I longed to retrace our steps...to climb the hill.... with the reward of the chapel and the wind and views at the top. So I drove us home instead with the taste of raw onion in my mouth and raw disappointment in my belly.......forgetting that this disease is not only stealing away his life bit by bit but it's teaching me to let go of  how it was - even a year ago -   and to stay with this is how it is now..... and now....... and now.

13th September 2014 - at the top of Glastonbury Tor.

So when we got home, Robin went to bed, and  I took my camera to the University Parks.....and walked its autumn paths....... finding a solace there.... finding a close up view can be just as rewarding as the far distant one from the top of the hill - which isn't where I am .....yet.

I'll Do A Scarlett O'Hara

Spent loads of money in the White Stuff sale today. Came home to loads of bills in the post. But decide all will be well.

 Talked to my friend whose husband has the same disease as Robin but much further down the line. Terrified myself with thoughts of the next 15 years or so even though they are so unknown. Decide to carry on, and unless something horrible happens, just keep adjusting the tiller .....navigate the small wind and waves....not expect the storm before it hits.

 I'll do a Scarlett O'Hara and think about it tomorrow.......at least I'll phone the nice man at Social Services on Monday and find out our options. 

If I Don't Give Up On Myself

Picking up the fallers under the apple tree this evening I recognised the song of my sweet garden companion. I searched for him .....spotted him on a high branch camouflaged against a red apple. He waited for me while I went back inside to get my camera... I zoomed in and out trying to find him in my lens.... he let me get one shot and then flew deeper into the leaves where I couldn't see him. But I stayed and listened to him for ages....as if his song was just for me.

On the way back from picking up Robin after his day at The Mede we stop off at Morrisons to buy fuel...... and butter and a packet of sweet popcorn. I spot a whole salmon bargain which I persuade myself is a good buy even though I know it's farmed. At home I stuff it with a bouquet of marjoram and lemon balm from the garden and slices of lime, douse it in olive oil, wrap it in foil and bake it. It'll keep us going for many meals. 

Robin says he doesn't want it for supper so I stuff some red peppers with a mix of feta cheese, cooked brown rice, walnuts, sun-dried tomatoes and fresh thyme and roast them in parchment paper. We have them with a salad of rocket, avocado and basil....watching a programme called How to Eat Well For Less.  My salmon bargain would fit that category....but what price farmed fish?

Ever since this morning driving to The Mede when Robin said he didn't really like going I've been wondering what our options are....wanting to find something that works for both of us...there will be a way....if I don't give up on myself.

A Good Day

Today counts as a good day. Small things make it so.

I let Robin's 'voices', always bad first thing in the bathroom in the morning, wash over me...give him a hug instead of closing my ears.

I spray the sticking front door lock with WD40 - it works. I feel triumphant.

I change the sheets on the bed. Remember my father who was always so grateful and smiley when I put clean sheets on his bed. I remember his big hugs.

I speak to a man at the Driving Assessment Centre and he says he'll send us a letter. I was waiting for our Neurology Professor to refer Robin  - emailed him and found out I can self refer. Much better than waiting for someone else to do it - taking charge.

I make Sugar Coated Cinnamon Almonds with Robin before he goes off with his walking group. The care worker who collects him is early.  Gives me an extra 20 minutes.

While I'm waiting for the nuts to finish cooking, I sort out the stack of cardboard boxes in the shed which I use to store the apples - getting ready for the gardener to come and pick the apple tree this afternoon. I tidy the shed a bit, brush away the cobwebs everywhere and sweep the floor which makes it look better even though it still needs serious de-cluttering. Realise Robin may never use a spade or a rake or an electric drill ever again. Or ride his bicycle.

 In the fruit and veg section at Aldi I remove a few of the inner dimpled linings of the apple boxes for my apples and put them in my trolley along with the bottles of fizzy water and jars of olives. These cardboard pocket trays are perfect for keeping the apples from touching each other - I've been collecting them the last few weeks whenever we go to a supermarket.

When our gardener still hasn't arrived I ring to find out from his wife that he can't come today - his other job over-ran -  he didn't have my phone number.  The apples will keep on the tree for a few more days and it gives me the bonus of an afternoon I didn't expect.

At the allotment I pull the last of the carrots - black ringed with carrot fly now - and the last few tomatoes and runner beans. Everything is wildly overgrown, abandoned and neglected.  I feel sad about it - all Robin's work and enthusiasm lost in a wilderness of weeds.  I don't feel hopeless though just indecisive about what to do next. And I'm not going to decide now.

I've been trying for ages to find somewhere in the Cotswolds for us to stay for a few days in October as we haven't had a summer holiday. I've been regularly trawling the holiday websites ( and losing the will to live) for a cottage - must be private and have two loos and not share a garden and not cost the earth and be close to as many National Trust properties as possible so we have somewhere to go in the long days.

 This afternoon I found a perfect cottage and booked it. Something to look forward to so long as I remember that our 'normal' now isn't anything like it used to be when we went on holiday.

Supper is already made - something left over from last night - and The Great British Bake Off on telly. So that counts as a good night as well as a good day.