Recovering and happy…

Yesterday, I went with friends who are also poets, to read in the next county. We drove through the New Forest, which I hadn’t seen for a while. It was very beautiful despite being winter, and it’s lovely to see the ponies grazing. My friend, who was driving, bemoaned the lack of a bypass around a certain town, but really less traffic is needed by improving public transport.

I had forgotten how far one had to walk from the nearest car drop off to the entrance. Then I rested on chair, before climbing the stairs.

The venue is a listed house in Romsey. It is a museum, run by a charity. Because it is listed, meaning it is of historic value, it cannot be altered. Further, there is now an entrance fee of £7.50 per person, which includes tea and cake.

This does not sit well with me. Other venues I read at are pubs which have a room or let you take over the whole space. So one buys one refreshments and everybody is happy. In my local poetry group, I buy a drink for £3.

Also, Romsey is in the afternoon. That presents logistical problems of different sorts for different people. It doesn’t bother me, except that it takes up all my day because I spend almost two hours travelling to my friends.

Anyhow, arriving at my friends, I was asked what time my bus home would be. I was taken aback. I had not even thought about my return journey. Andit turned out that being Sunday, the last bus back would be a 4.20. We would still be in Romsey.

My friends lifted my trolley into their camper van, and said they would drop me at the outskirts of my conurbation. This was kind of them.

I really enjoyed the poetry shared by other poets there, apart from one poem, which was dense and required a lot of concentration. One lady read poetry that was so funny. She is Irish and knows many of the places I know.

Someone read a Haiku string. But they weren’t Haiku and it wasn’t a string. It was three line stanzas. I did not say anything. I am weary of teaching Haiku.

My friends ended up driving me all the way home, which I didn’t realise until we were at a certain junction. I was very grateful, but feel I can’t ask to travel with them again.

The element I mentioned yesterday, that is lacking from a vegan’s diet, is iodine. I remembered in the night, as one does. Borden’s Blather provided a link in comments on my last post. Thank you Jim.

So, today, I have needed rest as I’ve ached a bit. But as my poetry was well received, and I heard some wonderful poems read, I am happy.

A fairly good day…

I woke this morning feeling snuggly and cosy. I value this time as I am pain free, and I extend it whenever I can. I could have rested longer, after all, it’s the weekend. For some reason, I got up and checked emails.

Apart from a couple of personal ones, there was a notification that a certain courier would deliver a parcel. I still habitually become sceptical because that courier didn’t deliver to me for nine years. I have received a few recently, but thought the regular person was unwell or on holiday.

I did try to go back to bed, but the moment was gone.

My friend down the road phoned to say she had left something she had done for me on my front door step and was in a hurry in order not to be late for work. I went down to get it, popped it in the kitchen, and came upstairs to write. Naturally, within ten minutes, the courier arrived. He is very pleasant and smiley, unlike his predecessor.

However the two trips downstairs and back up had tired me. I was slightly wheezy and needed to use my inhaler.

A while later, I started to make a cake, It’s an easy recipe as it’s a ‘batter’ type mix so less effort than regular cake. As I put it into the oven, it struck me that I had left out the liquid. Oh, the frustration! I adapted the temperature and baking time, and the cake is now in a cake tin. It did not ‘spread’ in the oven due to the wrong consistency. I will find out how it is to eat in the next few days.

I felt exhausted by that, and was supposed to find out my bus times for tomorrow and let a friend know what time I will arrive tomorrow, but decided to shower and wash my hair right then, so all my tiredness would be at one time. This worked, as all tasks were now done. I could rest and write, read and anything else relaxing.

I was supposed to meet friend tonight for a drink, but she had flu at the beginning of January and has trouble shaking it off. She has chronic fatigue syndrome and I understand completely.

Tomorrow, I am going to a poetry event in the next county. I shall take the bus to my friends, leave my trolley there, and go on in their car. I am looking forward to it.

I forgot to mention hemp oil yesterday. It is excellent for maintaining every ‘system’ in the body. Respiratory system, cardiac system, digestive tract, all other organs, and it promotes good sleep.

Additionally, if you are vegan, please eat seaweed regularly. It has a mineral that should not be taken as a supplement. Supplements are of little value. Get everything you need from your diet.

When I remember the name of the mineral, I will tell you what it is.

Poeting and pain…

Earlier this week, I went to the local poetry evening. it was a great turnout and the vibe was good. I took all my courage and read two ‘love poems’. I don’t know why I needed courage, love is as much a part of life as anything else.

We had tongue in cheek poetry, funny poetry and songs by Romeo with his guitar. He’s also a good poet.

I rode home on the bus with a fellow poet and we chatted. I prefer one to one conversations, and would never have got to know him otherwise. I have a feeling he is gender fluid, which is unimportant, but I’ve never had such friends. It’s warm feeling and he told me he likes my poetry from months ago. To me this is a real validation.

I’ve been going to bed early to relax some muscles that have been really hurting me lately. It is working. I could probably do with having a few drinks to do the job properly. The pain is pretty bad.

Happy adventures…

Today has been a happy day, or perhaps contented day is better.

I dealt with emails and invitations, and then contacted the gardener who is making alterations is my garden. He was caught up with his son, so I decided to grasp the time and visit my godmother.

I haven’t seen her for a while, for one reason or another. The bus journey is not long, but takes me to lanes that see more tractors than cars. I took the wrong turning to her house, a problem I have whether driving or on the bus. It is pleasant though, so I did not mind.

She did not know I was coming, as she naps every afternoon. I love her company because she is so positive and adores me. It’s lovely to be with people who think the world of you, isn’t it?

I often have no reason to visit, but I have been wanting to give her a book of poetry. She is one of my greatest fans, which is another lovely thing.

Her cottage, which about four hundred years old, is on the estate that her nephew now owns, and just a bit further north is the estate of Antony Rockley (Lord) who is a really lovely man.

At the bottom of my godmother’s garden is the Beech tree I planted for my Dad. I tried to spot it from the lane, but failed as I’m not familiar with her garden’s gaps in the hedge. I will have a plaque made soon, to be visible on the lane side of the hedge.

We spent a couple of happy hours drinking tea and chatting, and talking about my Dad, whom she also adored (everyone loved my Dad), my English home town, where she has lived also.

When I left, I turned down the lane, although it’s name is road, and found myself in pitch-black. It was hard to avoid the ditches on either side, though I did, because otherwise I’d probably still be there. I took the correct fork in the road, and tried to stay in the middle. A runner frightened me as he overtook me. He was wearing a head torch which seemed to come out of nowhere.

The light pollution from where I live was shocking. I’ve not seen it so starkly in a long time. The bus came on time.

I was thrown back a couple of decades as there was a young guy sitting opposite who looked just like a boyfriend I had. I burnt my leg on his brother’s motorbike exhaust (skirts on motorbike are not recommended), and I used to change gear for him when we were out. Once we took my sister out, and she suddenly said, ‘I feel sick’. He said to hang on for a moment, but knowing my sister, I told him to stop at once. Too late. My sister had thrown up on the back of my seat. Thankfully, there was one of my sweaters in the boot, and a blanket. So I protected her modesty as she put on the sweater and then turned the blanket into a skirt.

I spoke on the phone to this ex relatively recently. He said I don’t laugh like I used too. Well, I laugh a lot.

I am finding the rain resistant jacket that Mike left behind very useful. It is lighter than my Dad’s which great for dog walking, but this reaches my knees, like Dad’s, and doesn’t get to too hot.

A bad fall, and other adventures…

And really uncomfortable for anyone!

Today was my bus journey to my medical. I got on the correct bus, but then got off one stop too soon. I know the area, as I used to drive my daughter to dance lessons around there. I went along some back lanes and found it with 5 minutes to spare.

So much for my angst.

When I came out a slight shower had started, but I decided to come home through the park, which is beautiful and very famous. So the shower stopped, and I enjoyed doing some window shopping. As I came nearer to the park, I realised I was near some friends I hadn’t seen in a while. I turned into what I thought was their road, but I would learn that I was at the back of their house. So I tried knocking on their back door and there no reply. I didn’t want to disturb other people, so I started to go back the way I thought I had come. I came to a steep incline with a very low kerb, so I started up it cautiously. But my mobility scooter tipped over, and therefore so did I.

My head hit the ground and the back of my pelvis took a bang too. My instinctive thought always is I don’t want an ambulance. I started calling out for help. I was amazed at my lung power. My friend heard me and came running, calling my name. He picked me up and took me in a hug, while I just shook and kept saying Matthew, Matthew. Another man appeared and helped Matthew pick up mobility scooter (I call it my trolley).

I was taken in for a cup of tea. Matthew asked if I was concussed, so I said no, holding up one finger and said ‘Do you see five fingers too?’. I’m not concussed although a mild headache has set in. Matthew Bolt has seen me in several states of unwellness, and he is always great.

This evening I realised that my mothers funeral was seven years ago. I asked my school friend to make floral tributes from my Dad and from my sister and I.

Here are the flowers from my Dad.

My parents didn’t always have a happy marriage. My mother enjoyed being an officer’s wife, and missed the income after my Dad left the S.A.S. She would criticise him in front of my sister and me. I once saw her go at time with a knife. He protected himself with a chair. I often wished they would divorce.

I don’t miss my mother at all. When I heard she had died, my first reaction was death was relief. I had cared for her when she had a significant stroke, a year before her death. At first she was kind and complimenting me, but as the week went on she became less kind, and back her critical self.