Movement

Sunshine and brief showers today with a warm southerly wind  that carries along with it these cloud formations that change with the passing second. This is the sort of summer weather I like. 
 
The letting go continues and a lady called Lin is coming to pick up the cat basket tomorrow afternoon. I've tried to live a well-adjusted life.  I mean love and stability and companionship and job and belonging.   Money only as a means to an end. Nothing has worked - and the higgledy piggledy pile of books and possessions that I'm sorting through demonstrate this.   Massage books (can't do massage any more, nor do I want to). How To books. Crafts that were abandoned.  Co-dependency books. Journals.  Detritus all. Being ill has given me the space to understand to that indeed nothing could have worked. Not with me being the way I was and everything and everyone else around me being the way they were.  The fit was never there.

Stripped to the core. Feeling like a newborn at 64 years old. It's a relief to be this age and not to worry about so much that used to distress me. Each thing I surrender - and I do so willingly and with relief - stokes the fire that moves me forward. 

Shopping Trolley

So I signed up with Freecycle yesterday and decided to submit the 4-wheeled shopping trolley as a test run on the list of Items Offered.  A remnant of my London life, when most weekends I would trundle along with it to Sainsbury's in Balham, it's been cluttering up my porch since I moved in here. Online shopping rules these days chez moi.

Two email replies offering the trolley a home.  Both sound nice, sane, non-psychopathic. I pick the first one and he says he will collect this morning.  I'm in the front garden when he pulls up in the car with the family, a wife and two young girls.  He levers himself slowly out of the driver's seat.  Stocky, fifty-ish, a local accent, he walks with difficulty, using a cane.  He's been very ill he tells me and the doctor has told him to begin taking gentle exercise.  He reckons walking to the local shops would be a good start but he can't carry anything.  The trolley is just what he needs.

I hand it over. I've spent the rest of the day feeling enormously gratified.  Liberated even.  Next on the list, the cat basket.

Wheels

Distinctly emotional watching the final stage of the Tour de France. France TV does a fabulous job with their earthbound and helicopter shots and the late evening sunlight set the scene beautifully for the ride into Paris yesterday. Just a quick glimpse of the suburbs that I knew so well sets me off - Meudon-la-Foret, Issy les Moulineaux, Porte de Sevres. The  Champs Elysees and the quais de la Seine formed part of my walk to and from work at one time. Nostalgia and beauty and sadness and regret all mixed; this city pulls at my heartstrings like no other. One day I'll go back, take my time and lay a few ghosts.

Ironically yesterday I decided to put my bike on Freecycle.  In the future I simply can't take the risk of an accident.  Transport henceforth will be two legs or four wheels.  If specific cycling exercise is needed I'll go the gym.  Can't crash an exercise bike.

Wait

A still, shimmering afternoon. Sunlight, so bright, so strong, dazzles and drives one into the shade.  Early mornings and evenings are best in this heat, though - intermittently - there is the softest breath of a breeze. The houses around the green and their occupants seem to doze peacefully.

The naturopath says that my system is getting more robust with each visit but energy levels are down from when I last saw him two months ago. Unsurprised by the latter.  Since May there have been mice in the bedroom wall, a posterior vitreous detachment and a nasty fall-out with a close friend (which please God will be resolved - though I don't know how).   Stress and fatigue buttons have been well and truly pushed.  But I persevere with the anti-yeast diet and he will be starting me on a new treatment at the next appoinment - or at least soon.  Not ready yet. We wait. Not easy for someone who is naturally on the hyper side. 

So. High summer. A time apparently to hold still.  To let things be as they are. 

And today this story makes me happy for all sorts of reasons. My father had mild dementia in the last year or so of his life.

Summer Garden

Early morning. Sunshine. Hot but not too hot. Heavy, scented air. In that moment, perfection.

Flashing

You see, I don't want to come on here and just tell you about my ailments, which  I've been doing a lot of recently.  So I'll tell you about the Posterior Vitreous Detachment in my left eye diagnosed by the local optometrist. It doesn't count because it's not an ailment.   The helpful and reassuring piece on the RNIB website, says so.  No, it is a natural change that occurs in the eye in many people as they get older and the symptoms are floaters and -  the thing that is really stressing me out -  rapid light flashes on the periphery of the eye concerned, particularly in the dark and dimly lit conditions.  Apparently these symptoms can last from a few weeks to a year, with most cases settling down and resolving at around six months.  So it's a fairly long haul.  Just to up the anxiety, in the first two or three months you are more at risk from a retinal detachment, though this is fairly rare, but if the symptoms change or worsen I have to get to A&E pronto. My friendly neighbour has volunteered to ferry me there if necessary, day or night she says.  I'm grateful.

Six weeks in now, and I'm staying in well-lit places, including sleeping with the bedside light on because I can't cope with the firework display in my left eye when I awaken in the dark.

Why had I never heard of this?

****

The theme that resonates more and more is : simplify.  Things you no longer need - give away what you can, sell anything you can sell.  When I'm fit enough the plan is to downsize and move to a smaller property closer to the centre of town which requires less maintenance. Walk to the shops, to the library, to see friends. I no longer want to fritter away nervous energy on stuff that drains me needlessly.  Time and health are increasingly precious, dear God they are.

  Pretty pink.  The new gardener, Brian, nice man, gave me some cuttings.