Paintings "Made Better with Cats"

Love it. Love it. Love it.  Full story (and pictures) here on the BBC website.  Could never resist a ginger cat.

Stroll

Ah, sun again; the rain has been non-stop for three days. Red chestnut glows against the blue sky. A single swan, wings whistling, flies low overhead as I made my way to the river.

I stand aside on the narrow path to let a stocky young woman power-walker in a brown sweatshirt and her cocker spaniel overtake me.  These days I'm slow.  I walk, I stroll, I meander.  I no longer stride out and I certainly don't power-walk.  In typical British fashion we smile vaguely, slightly embarrassed, and avoid direct eye contact. 

Today's goal is the large white stone to the side of the path.  Done. Not far now to the gate that leads into the field.   Thus is progress is measured.  As I turn back, two canoeists can be glimpsed through the trees, their voices surprisingly loud across the water.  They don't see me.  The river, brown, fast and swollen carries them swiftly on.

On the way home, foxgloves in my favourite garden.

****

The face pain is turning from a sharp nerve pain into a nasty, throbbing, torn ligament-type ache.  Intermittent thankfully. And here I must put in a plug for the  Do-It-Yourself-Joint-Pain-Relief.com website.    I've been following instructions for jaw, neck and upper back pain.   The techniques don't cure the ligament pain of course, that would be unrealistic.  But they loosen things up in the surrounding area and sometimes turn the pain volume down and, as importantly, take away some of the feeling of helplessness.  Doing something is good therapy in itself.  (If this were an astrology blog I would mention that Mars is currently in my 1st House and moving oh so slowly!)

Exuberance

The exuberance of nature on a sunny spring day is almost overwhelming to my indoor-accustomed senses. The intensity of colour. The smells and sights and sounds.  And the relief I'm experiencing this year in being - just a little bit - out and about and able and willing to take photographs once again is hard to describe.

But today I'm having to deal with a pinched nerve in the jaw after a session in the dentist's chair a few weeks ago with my mouth jammed open too wide for too long, and the change in my bite following a new crown.  The throbbing pain radiating out from the temporomandibular joint set in a few days later after each time I chewed on that side and even sometimes when I didn't.   According to the cranial osteopath, who worked her usual magic on releasing and soothing spasmed muscles and connective tissue, the battered nerve and tissue should gradually calm down over the coming weeks. It's a bit better after her treatment but I still have to be careful how I eat.   Soft foods only on the menu right now. I speak to the osteopath on the phone this afternoon for my reassurance (she's very good at that) and  I'm seeing the dentist again later this week. Gulp. 

In short, facial pain is a pain. Ice packs are at the ready.

So the daily walks are both a therapy and a distraction.  I've acquired a small reference book of British trees. Embarrassing how few species I can name with any confidence, aside from the obvious ones (weeping willow, oak, holly etc.) After rifling through the pages I  think the beautiful specimen above is a sycamore in flower. If I'm wrong I'm sure someone will tell me.


Oh and Mars has turned direct today.  Hooray.
 

Neighbourhood

 I love this time of year.

I live in a typical 1980s housing development.   A cul de sac of houses, varying sizes, on the outskirts of  town.  One of the pluses is that we are a short distance away from open country and the river, and thus my morning rehab walks generally take me in this direction. A bit further each day.  On other days my head rules my heart and I take the busy, far less pleasant route that leads into town because I'm aiming to reach the nearest letterbox, which will mean independence, i.e. no need to ask someone else to post my mail.

But this morning it was the river walk and a kind of celebration.  I walked far enough to catch sight of the river itself - haven't glimpsed it from this spot for nearly five years.   You have to look closely but it is definitely there, just behind the froth of cow parsley.

Even the walk home can claim its own delights.  One of the houses has what you would call a cottage garden.  Cornflowers, irises, pansies, foxgloves. Shrubs. Bushes. A copper beech.  All gorgeously unkempt and unmanicured, unlike the adjoining plots (mine included).  I'd like to stop and just stare but I don't - the owners might think I'm planning a robbery or somesuch.

And as a bonus the friendliest of cats lives here.  She walks towards me and rolls over in pleasure. Later she allows me to stroke her.  I feel duly honoured.  My sort of garden. My sort of cat. 

 

Crash

Let's just say the journey back to health is a slow, tedious but at the same time wild ride.  There are days when I feel pretty good and the sun shines and the birds sing and the daily walks are a pleasure, and days like today when exhaustion rules, the brain is foggy and there is a Black Hole where my solar plexus used to be. This won't last I repeat to myself like a mantra. And I believe/know it won't. It just can't. 

The PC's hard disc crashed a couple of weeks ago and in retrospect I'm glad that most of my photos disappeared.  They weren't very good and the ones that were I'd already put onto Flickr.  Let go, let go, let go.  If I don't then the universe steps in and does it for me.  Happy though that I'm now able to download photos once again.

On days like this I get particular sustenance from colours like this.  Taken yesterday.