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Monthly Archives: June 2018

Reflections 2018 w25

One thinks that one can, at times, have an almost romantic view of the nature that is around me.

Only for nature to give me a quick, sharp, jab of reality.

I had in mind this week to actually take my sketch book, along with my watercolour set, outdoors! A big step for me.

The setting – a small stream flowing around several bends, long grass atop of sandy banks, small islands of pebbles scattered along the shallower parts. Serine indeed, with the soundtrack of trickling water to relax with.

The plan was for Spot and myself to nestle in on a lower part of a bank, away from the sight of passing dog walkers, and just relax. My artwork not on show, thus reducing the anxiety of publicly sketching and painting, snacks and a flask of fruity green tea to hand.

One thought it may be prudent to goto the location today – pre sunset – just to have an idea as to where one would like to be situated. Armed with my trusty Tilly hat, covered in the most repugnant anti-mosquito spray I have, just in case, one took Spot for a little walk.

The air was still and warm from the days earlier summer temperatures, the stream was low, much lower than what one remembered it from last time, but this served only to make the pebble islands have greater character, a real bonus for the artwork to come in the following week. The long grass brushed gently against bare skin of my lower legs, parting ways in front as Spot pushed through, for her, a towering forest of green. Her white tail wagging all the while.

Yes, this was a pleasant walk.

A spot was found that would be suitable for the later excursion, secluded, and a flat area large enough that a seat could be placed on the ground for Spot and myself to share, whilst being able to place the art materials around in an orderly fashion. Yes this was the spot.

We sat for a while admiring the view, then the gnats must have gotten used to the smell of the repellent, and I became a viable option for lunch, vowing to wear much more next time I stood up.

The low angle of the sun, now setting, made the gnats shine as they flew around. They shone like the droplets of water that makes up the mist, swirling in a thick mass – at head height. And yet my head height was only level with the top of the bank, I had yet to climb up into that swirling mass of glistening white, currently starting to obscure the view of the surroundings, I had no other exit. One just hoped that the stinky repellent was enough to get clear of the area – quickly! Without all exposed areas of skin bitten. One has never seen so many gnats as one did today.

The sketching trip I think will be changed to a quick visit for photo’s, as I do not think that even if the entire bottle of spray was to be used, it would be enough. Even as the memory is recalled it is making me itch.

So far I am lucky not to have bites starting to develop.

Reflections 2018 w24

Insanity is defined as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

Am I insane?

I trust in the doctors and psychological teams, over and over – being told the same thing over and over…There is no magic pill, it’s the therapy that will be best treatment, and it will be hard.

I accepted that, and it made sense. After-all it took a lifetime to break my mind, logic dictates it will take the rest of it to become better. But how is one supposed to carry on trusting when therapies are blocked/denied/not accessible, even when it has been part of a diagnosis and treatment plan by a doctor? Because one is on medication it is classed as being treated – opposite of what one was told originally – that the therapies would be the treatment long term not the medication, and I quote the doctor “the medication is just a band aid”.

I wish that there was a treatment plan of an alternative direction, more natural than chemical manipulation, recognised as treatment. One would give it a try, because the medications one is on now are just coincidental to the symptoms of known side effects – which are making me less well.

And my trust is beginning to fade.

Today, as I once again caused a lot of pain to my body chasing my son around the play centre, a little girl stopped me and asked why I was wearing headphones – the big over ear ones – I like that in children, the curiosity to question and the courage to ask them, so I told her. I told her it was to block out a lot of the noises around me in busy places, because if I have a lot of noises to listen too, my head hurts. Kinda the truth, I did not want to tell her what my anxiety manifests and give her nightmares. She listened, digested the answer, and decided it would be fun if I chased her and her friend around the play area. I called my son over to see if he was interested in chasing them, and then being chased, but he was having non of it, today was daddy day only.

This in part I think was because his best friends Dad died this week, and he wanted to have the comfort of having his dad play with him. I think that this is the second father, defiantly the second parent, that has died in the last 18 months, of one of his school friends. This year his sleepover happens to be on fathers day eve, one thinks tomorrow will be an extra cuddly day. I have got the cuddle films at the ready.

I don’t think it unreasonable to ask for a treatment to get better, if only to ease any worries he may have – toward a dad he has never seen well.

Reflections 2018 w23

The worst thing about setting yourself a goal, such as the one that I did, writing a blog post on a weekly basis, is the weeks like this one…I really don’t have anything to write about – except the fact that I have nothing to write about.

This then I posit becomes a non existent statement of truth.

For how could one possibly be sat here, writing all these words, in a somewhat coherent manner, about not having anything to be write about? Whilst all the time being honest about the fact, and it is fact, that I have nothing to write about this week?

135 words that could have been covered in one word , which would have been just as true and yet nowhere near as clear to the reader,┬áright at the beginning…


Reflections 2018 w22

Today was supposed to a trip to the Etruria canal festival but due to the weather it was altered to a play centre.

The usual suspects were there, myself (obviously), My Son, Mum, my Sister and here two little ones. The idea being they would be occupied and kept dry, that and my nieces wheelchair would not sink in the mud. The dry part was not so successful.

The place was relatively quiet at the beginning so I was grabbed by my son to chase him around the child sized hamster assault course/cage, this is what normally happens when we get here, this is also not what my sister was expecting; thus she was dressed inappropriately, which somehow was my fault in not knowing that she did not know that she also would be dragged into the cage, even though I did not know she would be. In fairness I think it was the speed at which my son gets around on hands and knees that threw her, and maybe the speed that her fat b……d of a brother gets around as well. In my defence I have to try and catch my son. He mocks me with the floss if I don’t give 100%

The play surfaces of the multi level cage of pain are padded, which helps old joints and feet from any impacts, I have learnt to just throw myself around in there and not worry about it. However even with the pain meds I am on, plus the over the counter pre dosage, the play centre is like a credit card…I will pay for it later. And right now it is later. One normally has a fortnight to recover before it happens allover again but because of his holiday rearrangements and my exe’s birthday I only had a week this time.

Besides my back gets cracked in there, loudly, which could be a good thing – or a bad one, we will see the next physio appointment, it might improve the A4 piece of paper exercise drawings to do. It will defiantly help a chiropractor when I can afford one, more movement in my spine.

One downside though…

No ice lollies for sale, not a one. The kids where going around hair sodden, the adults that are on it were in various states of redness/sweatiness/sodden hair and they are only thinking about selling them…WTF?

Hot Kids + Hot Adults = Ice lollies sales

They don’t even have ice-cream for the parties – again WTF?

So we came home and had them.

My sister has had a challenge thrown at her by my Son (nearly 7)…When we beat them next time…

I have told him…

Next time she will dress for it, AND will want revenge, so will be triple determined to catch us. Even more so when she reads his gauntlet throw-down he came up with after she had left for home.

That day is gonna hurt!