Wishbone Soup Cures Everything

This week I was a stranded fish. Time and tasks rolled me onto the shore where I couldn't catch a calm breath; where everything is a struggle, and even though I know that overwhelm is part of this Bringing Dreams To Life process, it gets to me. No big problem has caused this, it's more that I lost focus and perspective after doing housework instead of writing, but I don't want to live in a disgusting mess all of the time.  If you've been following my year, you will probably know this pattern. You will know that I just need a minute, then I'm back to swimming and laughing. It is a pattern, it has a repeat.  So, dear Reader, where are you? In the flow, on the shore, caught in a current?  I am not so caught up that I don't think of you, I just forget to tell you that. But if you listen to the water, to the wind, to the shuffle of the sand, the twist of a leaf- here we all are. We are not isolated, not separated. We are the flow. We reach under the surf, under the d...

14/5/22 Saturday I am at work. Hydrotherapy on a warm spring day leaves us relaxed like rag dolls. Washing is pegged and dried on the line. I had to add extra water to the lupin which appeared to have fainted. All the pots are well mulched but they dry out anyway. Luckily the maintenance is pleasing. I tell the plants how beautiful they are, and taste-test the mint. Mr is out at Paddock Garden cutting up felled trees and clearing nettles to make compost tea while Dog slumbers in the stable. 15/5/22 Sunday I peg washing on the line before leaving for work; as I start the car a light shower also begins. Goodbye washing, enjoy your second rinse! At work we have a mission of putting together some jubilee planters, so we scour the garden department at Homebase for red, white, and blue blooms. I have mixed feelings about the jubilee, partly because the world is on fire and that seems more important. I’m neither a royalist nor a hater. It was good to have a Queen when I was growing up, she w...

7/5/22 Saturday I am raring to be back to work shenanigans. Little Care Client has not been well though, so she is having a quiet sleepy day. We make do with a YouTube beach; the garden pots are watered, the window ajar, the washing machine rumbling. Mr is at Paddock Garden clearing the storm-felled ash, ready for track building times. As is usual, we are not sure when our contractor will appear. It's a little frustrating mixed with the excitement of surprise. 8/5/22 Sunday Coffee in bed, listening to birdsong, peering at weather forecasts. Watered the polytunnel which seems untenanted since last week’s pest control clearance. It will soon fill up: lulls and excess is how it rolls. My drive to work starts sunny; gathers mist from Bodmin onwards. My legs are cold but my dress has a bright floral print, my scarf is cobalt blue, my shoes are giraffe print and fun. At work I have shopping chores - batteries for the noisy toys little Care Client loves the best, and canes for her pea...

30/4/22 Saturday It’s not odd to wake up achy. Yesterday I was dragging and rolling logs, amongst other land tasks. I don’t feel right though, so I take a covid test before thinking about heading to work. The control line is bold red, the test line is barely visible but it’s not not there... message my coworker to pre-warn her that I might not be arriving, though the result may be erroneous. Wait one hour. Re-test. Both lines bold red. Mr’s test is negative, putting him on nurse duty. It feels wrong, at first, not to be off to work, but while I am sitting in bed reading up on the pros and cons of stone tracks; drainage issues in particular; the excitement of having a rest kicks in. Mr goes to the shops and comes home with a cream tea.  1/5/22 Sunday The last calendar month of spring begins with light rain, light grey sky, barely a breeze. The hedge birds have a lot to say; swallows swoop by the bedroom window so fast I see only a fork-tailed blur. Today I rest, I write. 2/5...