I found a tiny birdcage and so I planted a plant in a small pot and put it inside. I have hopes of a climbing plant growing around the bars of the cage.
I am expecting an old friend in half an hour. I haven’t seen him in twenty years. He is the younger brother of a boyfriend. I use boyfriend loosely as although we were exclusive for the most part, we never declared our relationship and I often felt manipulated. He expected me to know when he was going to arrive.
He left for Italy and I left for the rest of the world.
Last night I struggled to open a box with two bags of compost in it. The carrier had had to retape it. I was too lazy to get my scissors or a knife so I wrenched at it. Afterwards, I realised I had strained muscles in the top of my shoulders and by the time I went to bed, I had a knot of acute pain to one side of my neck.
I made sure my wheat pillow was supporting my neck and stopped myself from turning on my side. Thankfully, I fell asleep fairly quickly and awakened in the same position this morning. An alert on my phone made me jump, which reminded me that my neck hurt.
I have spent the day trying to massage it with two fingers and the painkillers for my hip have helped.
At around five I went to ask a neighbour to help me tip the compost into the tin bath that I am converting into a raised bed. I bumped into another man I talk to and he came and did it for me.
I watered the garden and wanted to plant in my new bed but for some reason my solar plexus (abs?) were aching badly. So weird.
So I came in and ate, and have been resting. My neck feels a little better and now the ache has gone.
I am resetting after all the pain on Saturday. One cannot think straight in such pain. It is exhausting. I’m so glad I have respite from it. Life feels so different.
I wonder at times about the girl I found in the street. I’ve heard nothing. I hope she has support. If they can’t prove she was punched, like no bruising, it may be an injustice. I don’t know. She was so distraught. Why make something like that up? Why be sobbing in the street if nothing happened when only I was approaching and she didn’t see me anyway until I called out to her.
My daughter was supposed to collect my prescription yesterday, but they did not reach my home. I had asked her to get them on Friday, but she didn’t see my message. So now I have missed two doses of the medicine that most affects me if I miss a dose. I get swimmy in my head, and then dizzy which means I can’t walk or stand.
A friend down the road is going to collect it tomorrow and then I will switch back to a pharmacy that delivers. The one in the High St closed and all customer records were sent to a very unsuitable pharmacy.
I found my home much too hot today and couldn’t figure it out. I went to the boiler to reduce the heating, and then went to my thermostat. It was on 30 C !!! That’s like 95 F. Whoever did that was very unwise and didn’t ask my permission. It is turned down now and I’m wearing a T shirt.
I felt recovered from my misadventures in Salisbury. I caught up with the rest I needed, and recovered from being cold for quite a while. In fact, my friend, Ian Chorlton turned on the heated seat in his car, which was wonderful.
A plant I bought before travelling to Salisbury is still in my trolley.
I just went to rescue it and it is suffering from lack of light and water. I hope to nurture it to health again.
I haven’t been out since arriving back, as naps and rain got in the way. I won’t be able to go out tomorrow as I will be dizzy.
I have been cross with my friend who asked me to go on a date. He had reason to be in hospital and told me he would message me later. He didn’t so I got very worried and phoned. No answer. Messaged. No answer. Finally, yesterday he sent a message that he was with his daughters. At home. My frantic worry is now a crossness. I need to speak to him about this. And a date is now even more out of the question.
I have been writing. An article was submitted to Fearless She Wrote. And then I heard it was curated by medium.com. This has confused me as I thought a publication accepting an article was curation.
The email said it was very high quality writing. In my opinion other articles I’ve written have been better…
What I find odd is that they ask for good grammar. I have read articles written as Americans speak. That is often a grammar fail. Oh well, as long as I’m happy I don’t mind.
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