Month: February 2024

FEELING OVERWHELMED

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I am feeling overwhelmed right now. The morning got off to a bad start. For us, routine is all important. In fact it is imperative that we can stick to it. It never seems to be possible however. I always wake, feeling not good, and I always come to my blog to help myself to come round. Today, I did manage it, but we were due to have a food delivery from the supermarket. They rang you half an hour before they were booked to come and asked if they could come early. My husband said that no, they couldn’t. We simply could not manage it. Neither of us had had breakfast and my husband had his diabetes to attend to. There were other essential things to do too. In fact going to the bathroom was one, and, despite my husband attempting to put off the food delivery until the time booked, they arrived whilst he was in the bathroom. He then had to rush to deal with the shopping, some of which was heavy. Then he had to get the rubbish out to the rubbish bins. This is really really hard for him as he is low down in a wheelchair and he has a manual wheelchair which he has to guide down the ramp which is pretty steep in parts. He has to do that carrying a big bag of rubbish. It always makes him lose his breath.

I feel so helpless as there is little if anything that I can do to help. I become stressed for my husband and just generally stressed about our situation. I often wonder how we are going to get everything done. Evary day is stress filled. Today I am not dealing with that stress very well. I am so worried about everything. One day my husband cut his foot badly whilst taking the rubbish out and had to go to hospital. Every time he goes out there now, my heart is in my mouth. We have no one to be with me whilst my husband goes to hospital. He can go nowhere and we cannot solve that problem since no one is prepared to work with us.

I can hardly believe that we have reached this situation. He is very exhausted all of the time. And he has to help me with my blog since WordPress altered everything making it so that I can no longer deal with it myself.

Each day is a trial and a struggle. A huge test. Sometimes I think that we can no longer face the test and overcome. My moods vary. Some days I can just about cope and some days I get very very down. It is strange to think that we had planned our retirement such that we were lving amongst the hills and doing some hill walking. We never imagined it would be like this. When we climbed Scafell Pike, the highest mountain in England, when we were younger, a lady aged 70 passed us. It was May and the third time that she had climbed Scafell Pike that year. We imagined ourselves to be like her in our retirement. But life is a gamble and we have to take whatever dice is thrown. Sometimes it seems so unfair but there is no answer as to why it is so unfair. We just have to take what comes and do the best that we can with it.

#RDP THURSDAY

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There was nothing else for it. Frank had been walking for three days now on a long distance trail. So far he had seen no bodies of water and he was experiencing withdrawal symptoms. It had been so long since he had felt the cold water on his skin, and he was gagging for it. Suddenly, there it was. A largish body of water. His heart leapt. It was big and deep enough to swim in. The only problem was that it had a layer of ice on the top of it. Quickly he shattered the ice with his walking pole, and, delightedly threww himself into the water. With a loud cry as the cold hit him he began to swim. He was used to this. Ice cold water was no problem to him, but he had to admit to himself that it really was rather cold. I am a fool to myself, he thought as he splashed around in the amazing water.

#FSS #138

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Fandango’s Story Starter #138

Jim could not for the life of him think what to do. Every day he had to walk round to the back door of his house in order to get in. It was quite a trek over a rough path that he had never bothered to have repaired. I mean, you don’t just go up to the undertaker and ask to have a grave opened up. But needs must. Jim approached the undertakers with a fair degree of apprehension. He went up the Reception desk and gave his request to the receptionist.

“Could you open Wilf Cunningham’s grave for me please. I know it seems an odd request but my front door key was in the pocket of the suit he was buried in.”

ANCIENT DAYS

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Ancient days, old like the paths we tread
Full of all that is
That was and can be
Stretching into the unknown
And back into time
When do the two meet
And is there really no tomorrow
Or yesteryear
Seamless like the sky
From which comes sun and rain
Making rainbows
Arching over life unknown
For who can know
The sum of everything
Or hold time in a crucible

INJURED MYSELF AGAIN

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Earlier this week I injured myself again. I have no idea how I did it but I must have twisted awkwardly. It is easy to injure my body as it is in a mess anyway. So all of this week I have been only able to sit up for short periods of time. I have had to lie down a lot and have been in pain. It has been a struggle to keep going but I have managed still to do my blog in short spurts. I do feel a lit better now, though I dare not push it. Some things can happen so quickly.

#W3 #96 The Lane

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W3 Prompt #96: Wea’ve Written Weekly

Walking down the long dark lane
I held onto Grandma’s hand
The ground beneath our feet was rough
I looked up into the sky

I held onto Grandma’s hand
Not caring about the ground
I looked up into the sky
I saw many twinkling lights

Not caring about the ground
I wanted to know where was God
I saw many twinkling lights
I knew that He must be there

I wanted to know where was God
In the vastness of the sky
I knew He must be there
Somewhere amongst the stars

In the vastness of the sky
Those stars spoke of His light
Somewhere amongst the stars
There must be His heavenly home

The stars spoke of His light
My mind was lost in wonder
There must be His heavenly home
Could I reach that place

My mind was lost in wonder
Tightly I gripped Grandma’s hand
There must be His heavenly home
Walking down the long dark lane

#DAILY WRITING PROMPT #1862

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For the Daily Writing Prompt we are asked to describe a phase in our lives that was difficult to say goodbye to

We had lived there for eight years, but when we had gone there following my father’s death, we had thought it would be for ever. We had had no intentions of returning to my home town, that held the most terrible memories and associations for me.
After my father’s death we had impulsively moved to Derbyshire in England, from my home county of Lincolnshire. It had suddenly hit us that life is short and that we needed to do what we had always wanted to do and had intended to do when we retired. But there was no time to waste. We must do it now. And so we did. My hometown had been a mot terrible place to live. We had thought that we would never get away from it and from the people responsible for what happened to me, and the memories. We were caught in a trap. We owned a house there, and it was almost impossible to sell houses at that time. Something happened however, just after my father’s death. It was as if I had taken over by a new personality. Taking risks had never been my thing, but it was as if I had been taken hold of by something. My husband and I went away for a week’s holiday straight after my father’s funeral, and one day, we saw a cottage being offered for permanent rent. Neither of us had planned to attempt to move, but quite suddenly we both looked at each other and knew that we were going to look round it. It turned out to be no good, but then the Agent who showed us round told us that he had another cottage in another village that we ight like. It turned out to be a very tiny stone built terraced cottage, probably built in medieval times, and after we had looked round it, I heard myself saying,

“We’ll take it.” My husband echoed my words and that was it, done. We moved in four weeks later, and there began the happiest time of my adult life. Eight years of pure bliss.
I remember hugging myself one day when I took my two dogs for a walk in the hills and telling myself that all this was mine now. I would never have to leave here again. I was safe and secure now in this beautiful land.

After eight years there, my husband began suffering badly from his post polio syndrome and had to give up work. We could no longer afford to live there and the only way was to return to my hometown.
On the day that I had to leave that beautiful place, I knew that I could never be happy again. And I was right. Not too long after we got back to my hometown, I got cancer and ended up blind and wheelchair bound. My husband was already in a wheelchair. Life became almost too difficult for us but we managed and still do today. My thoughts, however, always return to Derbyshire and I shed tears of grief. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, saying goodbye to that wonderful place.

#WDYS #227 – Too late

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What do you see # 227- Feb 26, 2024

Written for WDYS With thanks to Sadje for her prompt

It was going on night and the darkness was falling fast upon the isolated countryside. Not only that, but the fog too was beginning to envelop everything. A beautiful spot in the daylight, it now looked and felt eerie but also it had a kind of ephemeral feel to it. Dorothy was late. She had a date on the stone bridge and she began to run as she realised how late it must be now. It would soon be completely dark. As she ran, whe hitched up the skirt of her long white gown. It was the only thing that she had taken into service with her that gave her a sense of pride and dignity. Despite her being a servant girl, Edward had been almost mesmerised by her. She was very beautiful, and as time went on, he realised that he was in love with her. In time, he made his feelings known to her and, secretly, she, too, had been falling in love with him. So powerful were their feelings that they just knew that somehow or other they had to be together. But how could he, in his position, marry her, a servant girl?

Time passed, and there seemed to be no answer to their conundrum. Until one night Edward told ‘Dorothy to meet him by the stone bridge that evening at dusk, and they would plight their troth and then elope together. He had money. They would be alright.

Dorothy approached the bridge apprehensively, as she knew that she was so late, only to see Edward perched on top of the stone wall of the bridge. His leg was moving, and in a trice, he was gone. In his despair at Dorothy failing to appear, he had not wanted to go on living. There was no way that he could live without her.

“Edward, Edward,” she cried out. But it was too late.

#FOWC – Scoff

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FOWC with Fandango — Scoff

We had a terrible teacher at school who used to scoff at us and make us feel so uncomfortable that we never wanted to go into her class again. I remember one particular time when she asked if any of us had a “chateau” in the countryside. I put up my hand and said that my grandparents had one. She did not believe me and she asked me over and over again bout it. She asked me to describe it and exactly where it was, and I sensed her beginning to scoff. All the class joined iwth her, sniggering and obviously enjoyying the spectacle. I went on for some time, completely unaware that I had thought that this word meant “farm,” and I was describing my grandparents’ farm and all the animals there. Eventually I realised what was happening and I was chastised by the teacher. I had never felt more embarrassed in my life.

#RDP TUESDAY – Ink

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RDP Tuesday! Ink

I remember the days of real pens and real ink. When I think of ink, I think of those little inkwells on our desks in school, and the pens that we were issued with to dip into the ink. Those days are long gone now, but I loved dipping my pen into the ink and then attempting to perfect my writing. I have always loved making nice looking letters on a white page, and that has never left me, though my eyesight has left me now, and that is one of the things that I really miss. Nowadays not many people use real pens and real ink or even cartridges filled with ink. How much things have changed since I was at school.

#DAILY WRITING PROMPT #1861

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We are asked “If you could be someone else for a day whou would you be and why”

I can’t think of a specific person whom I would like to be for a day, but it would be someone who could see, walk and be free to go wherever they liked without being forced to stay in their home. It would probably be someone who could go onto the fells and up mountains. However, if I were to become that person for a day, I think it would only emphasise the life that I do live and make me more upset about it. There are many ways in which my life is good, and I am grateful for so many things and for having a husband who despite everything does help me and look after me and faces all difficulties and trials with me. So in a way I could not ask for anything better could i.

#FRIDAY FICTIONEERS – Harvest Home

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Emily stood near the empty hay wagon looking towards the golden fields. Her heart thrilled as she looked. The sun was blazing. She remembered the celebrations of old. It was harvestime. Back then she had helped stooking the corn. She had been taught well. All the men were happy as her grandmother brought trays piled high with sanwiches and cake. There were urns of tea and joyous singing. That day was the happiest of her life. She was old now, She would never help with the harvest again. She felt a deep sadness. Slowly, she turned and walked away.

#W3 PROMPT #95 Silenced

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W3 Prompt #95: Wea’ve Written Weekly

I sit here all day on your hearth
Cool and calm
You hardly know I am there now
I don’t bellow or make a noise
You used to pick me up and stroke me lovingly
You loved my cool smooth body
Something has taken you away from me now
I used to remind you of happy days
I was on a shelf in a shop for a long time
Until you found me and loved me straight away
You picked me up and you just had to take me home
That was a happy place for you then
I reminded you of your childhood
When you frolicked and played
In a wonderful place
The place where you were allowed to be a child
A place where you did not have to be an adult and care for your parents
A safe secure place
Now you are not in a happy secure place
I don’t think you can even see me any more
And soon the day will come
When both of us will be in a new home
You in what they call a Care Home
And me in a home on the rubbish tip
But in my heart
I am yours for ever
I will live in your memory
When you can bear to think
Of days gone by
My name is Cow
Black and white spotted
That is me
I still hear you calling me Cow
Even though you never do now
I hear your voice
And wish that I could hear it again
But you hardly dare raise it now
You are silent
Not wanting to draw attention to yourself
This is my home
You say
But you know in your heart of hearts
That one day they will get you
And that will be the end of both of us
Please come and talk to me one more time
And let me hear you saying my name
Cow

DAILY WRITING PROMPT #1859

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We are asked to state which word we would ban if we could

I would ban the word “positive,” and I know that not many will agree with this or understand it. It is in such common usage and it drives me mad. Whilst I am actually a very positive person, I hate it when people say “Be positive,” or exhort us to be positive in some way, as though it is almost a sin not to be. Firstly, it is not always possible to tell whether someone is being positive or not. Secondly, it can be a hammer to hammer someone on the head with because they are seen to be being negative when they are simply in such great pain or stress that they are literally down on their knees. There is such a thing as worn out when it is impossible to even begin to think in what is seen as positive terms. Sometimes all that we can do is endure and we have no strength to be or do anything other than we are. I suppose it is possible to be what some people see as positive on one’s death bed, but for myself I think I would be so shit scared that I wouldn’t be able to be positive in anyway. And of course in saying that, I open up the possibility of judgement upon myself. But there it is folks, that is me, take it or leave ti.

#SOCS SATURDAY – Veil

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The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Feb. 24, 2024

I do not remember having a veil on the day that I got married, but I am informed that I did have one. I certainly did not have it covering my face as I walked up the aisle. However, in life there are many veils. People wear masks more than we realise and I guess so do I. Maybe we need our masks for survival. Even animals and birds have masks of kinds in otder to survive. Every bird and animal has a predator and certain tactics have to be brought into play in order to put any predator off the trail. I believe that for humans it is exactly the same. We all can become prey to predators and we do not always realise who they are at first. Sometimes we are taken unawares by them however many masks we wear ourselves. We cannot always disguise our vulnerability by putting a veil over things. Predators spot it immediately, and it is a magnet to them.

Of course the other veil that I think about a lot is the veil between this life and the next, if in fact there is a next life. Sometimes we may have experiences in life that convince us that there is a life beyond this one and at those times the veil can seem very thin. When my father died, this happened for me. I had been with him for ten days whilst he was dying after having a stroke. Often I was completely alone with him. I had never touched my father until those last precious days. Alone with him, I stroked his hand and his forehead and tried to put him at peace. I longed to assure him that he need not be afraid. I wanted him to go as peacefully as possible. On the last day when he finally died, it was is if heaven and earth had met. Yet my father was a self proclaimed atheist. It seemed odd to me that this atheist should die with the seeming removing of the veil that exists between heaven and earth. At that time I vowed never to not believe in an after life again. However, with my rational and logical mind I have problems with this and always look for psychological reasons for things. I want the truth and not some kind of illusion although I do not think that the whole truth can ever be known. Often things happen to me that are of a spiritual nature and once again it feels as though some kind of veil has been lifted from my eyes. This has happened more since I have been physically blind. I seem to see with the eyes of my heart and with my spirit much more than I ever did before. I really would rather not wer a veil at any time, but part of life is not being able to see everything and for some things to be a mystery.

#SAMMI COX’S WEEKEND WRITING PROMPT – Intent

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Weekend Writing Prompt #352 – Intent

It was never his intent to upset anyone but he was one of those people who did unfortunate things unthinkingly. It must have been the grassy bank that did it although he never really liked grass. The problem was that is went uphill almost vertically. In a brainstorm he drove up it with Haly and her mother and grandmother in the car. All thought they were about to meet their Maker. The fear in was tangible. Eventually they reached the top safely. All vowed never to go in that car again.

PERSONALLY SPEAKING

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I have spoken personally quite a lot on my blog in recent months. It was never intended that my blog should become so predominated by this and orginally it was intended for my poetry. Gradually things changed and my blog became not just poetry. I want now to redress the balance. I guess all blogs change as time goes on. This one definitely has. I have realised that there are problems with speaking personally and this is going to change and I will speak much less personally. I hope to draw attention to some things that are going on in our country and our society that are in fact scandals and other such things, and I may still write about blindness and what that is really like. The main scandal that I want to write about at this moment is the Homes in our country and the things that I have discovered recently. I also want to emphasise that I am NOT Home material just because I am ill or blind. I can remember the utter shock that I experienced when this was first ever brought into a conversation with me. I hhave never considered myself old. Also I have always been very independent and strong minded. I have always been very very lively and to think in terms of Homes is an anathema to me. But I know that for many people this is where they end up and this is a very sad fact. What goes on in many of our Homes is absolutely appalling. It has been discovered that in nine out of ten Homes there is abuse going on. We watched some videos last night about this and have never been so shocked. Research has been properly done by respectable bodies and what has been unearthed is terrible and frightening. I would never in a million years go into one of those places. They look brilliant on the outside but on the inside are rotten. I believe that there is a lot of true caring going on in Homes, but going by the research there is also a lot of the other stuff. I would not ever contemplate going into a Home. I am feeling incensed right now. Speaking personally about my own life is not what I want to do right now. I want to keep my dignity. My life has been filled with all sorts of things but always, I have kept my dignity and grappled with the dice I have been thrown. I am not now reduced to something different and so it may be that I don’t speak personally at all on my blog apart from about blindness which needs a lot more understanding.

#WOTD – Passionate

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Harold was passionate about his cabbages. He took great pride in them and always managed to grow huge ones. His next door neighbours, Babs and Gerry, were just as passionate about their privacy and they hated Harold because he continually sat in his shed perusing the washing on the washing line in Babs and Gerry’s garden. One day, Babs had had enough of it and she set about Harold about peeking at her underwear on the line. Harold just happened to be holding one of his prize cabbages in his hands and in a rage, he suddenly threw it at Babs. She could hardly believe it. It hit her on the side of her face and she put her fists up in the air, threatening to go for Harold. Gerry attempted to comfort her by saying,

“Well at least you got hit by his PRIZE cabbage and not just any old thing.” Babs did not appreciate his comment. After that it was a night of the silent treatment.

OUR BRILLIANT HANDYMAN TODAY BUT WHAT WE LEARNED ABOUT CARERS AND ABUSE

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The handyman who came today was utterly BRILLIANT. He did all that he said he would do, and more. He will also come back and do more things that we need doing. Plus he guarantees his work for six months and after that if anything he has done goes wrong, he will come back anyway.

However, what he told us was utterly AWFUL regarding both carers, which we are trying to get, and carers in Homes and what Homes are like. I had suspected this but it was worse than I expected.

His wife is an Assistant Manager in a Care Home now, but she is not office based as she truly cares for people and wants a caring role with the residents as well. She is a true carer. Prior to going to this present job she had worked as a Manager of some kind but not the top one, at a purpose built, state of the art place in our town that was newly built and opened some ten years ago. It is a place where residents have their own apartment but there are communal areas too. Also they get their meals probvided. There are lovely gardens there where they can sit and it is a really lovely place. EXCEPT for the care staff. They abuse the residents. I was shocked. So his wife got another job in a BUPA Care Home and there was abuse that she witnessed there too. I don’t know what sort of abuse it was but she says it is rife. I was not surprised to be honest.

But then the other shocking was the carers who come into your home from the Care companies. They are not good either. They often steal, and they also are abusive.

It has made me and my husband think and think hard. What is going to happen to us?

I am extremely happy with this lovely handyman. He told us just to call him and he will come if there are any jobs that come up that we need done. We have him already coming back to put grab rails up. Mend hubby’s wheelchair and put a new lock on the patio window. All in all a great day, but with some worrying news.

SURRENDERING

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Surrendering to the darkness I sit,
Letting its arms wrap around me, rock me,
For by no other is my dark life lit,
Only in the dark can I truly see,
Waves of peace wash over my aching soul,
Soothing, calming my ever raging storm,
For I have tried so long to reach a goal
Not of my own making, how I was torn,
I knew that in the dark there was more light,
For in the dark I see with different eyes,
The eyes that walk by faith and not by sight,
And in the darkness now my spirits rise,
The light deceives false comfort offers me,
Embracing dark I can be truly free.

I CAN HARDLY BELIEVE IT

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An angel came to our house this afternoon in the form of a handyman. Wow. We have been trying to get one for aeons. So many urgent jobs to do and he is coming back on Saturday afternoon to do a lot of them. Wow. My mind is blown. He will fix a new toilet seat on and he himself will go to the store and buy it as we can’t get there. He will unblock the toilet. He will fix some now taps on the bathroom sink. He will take a load of rubbish to the tip, making it so that hubby can sort out the dining room in time. At the moment he can’t even get in there as some stupid goons who thought they were cleaners dismantled the whole room unplugging cables, moving a recliner chair and taking the carpet up in places. She got the sack from the cleaning company whom we were using but as it was during the pandemic they couldn’t get anyone else to come and sort out the mess left. It has got worse and worse over time and we could get no one to help us. After that I might actually be able to go and sit at the dining room table to eat instead of having to eat on the bed. That might take a bit of time to sort out though as some things need taking away. Also he is going to come back maybe next week to fix the wheel on hubby’s wheelcahire that got a puncture in the the tube was all twisted and hubby hadn’t got the strenth to get it right again. We were minus a wheelchair and we were giving up inside of us. So yes I am going to call this handyman an angel. I think tomorrow will be a day to put the flags out. We just need some other things to start working out right and it will alter the whole scales. Let’s see what happens. I feel happier already.

#WOTD – Celebrity

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Celebrity

I am pleased I am not a celebrity. I would have to wear or rather almost not wear clothes that hardly cover my body. At least that is the impression that I get from reading Yahoo news. I can’t imagine being a celebrity. So much to keep up with. And of course not only do you have to almost not wear clothes but you have to look good all of the time. Unless of course some crafty photographer spies you getting the milk in in a morning or something likethat. Though most celebrities would probably not be getting the milk in. They might live in some kind of a mansion.

I can never forget Mrs. Van Hopper in Daphne Du Maurier’s book “Rebecca” being totally fed up because there was not one well known personality or celebrity in Monte and then noticing Max De Winter. The story that unfolds is gripping and one that I will never forget. In fact it is my favourite book of all time.

#YOUR DAILY PROMPT #1857

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Today we are asked what advice we would give to our teenaged self

The advice I would give to my teenage self would be “Don’t do it.” By that I mean, don’t listen to others trying to pressurise and direct you if you don’t feel comfortable with it. I was pressurised into going to Teacher Training College and it was totally the wrong thing for me. I did do some teaching but I hated it. When I left school at age 18 I had three options. One was to accept the job I had been offered in a library with a view to going to Library College to train to be a Librarian. Another thing that I was offered was the option to be articled to local solicitors with a view to becoming a solicitor. Then of course there was the option to go to Teacher’s Training College. In my heart of hearts I think I really wanted to take the Library job. I felt honoured to have been invited to be articled to a solicitor but the Library was my real love. I listned to others however and all the pressure, inclyding from my headmaster was to go to train to teach. It seemed to be the done thing if you did not go to university. My headmaster told me that I was not degree materil. I am laughin now though because later on in life after I had made a mess of everything I did do an Oxford degree and then a Masters and then a Ph. D. I wish my headmaster was still alive so that I could go and tell him. I did my first degree for the sheer hell of it because of what my headmaster had said. When I did it I was surprised to find how wonderful it was. It was the best thing I ever did. To be able to really think and learn and stretch my mind was an amazing feeling. Also to mix with others and debate everything. I came to love the cut and thrust of the academic life and I learned so much about life in general there too. In the end I lectured myself and mentored students. I loved it all. I wish I was still in it now. I discovered to much about myself during that time too. I discovered who I was and reached almost my full potential. I think that I could still have developed more and gone further but in the end circumstances prevented it. I have to say the I look back with great pleasure on that. Part of my life. I often wonder what would have happened if I had not listened to others when I was a teenager and gone straight to university. That is something that I will never know though.

INSIDE MY CHEST

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Every morning when I wake up and sit up, there are weird noises inside my chest. It sounds like a baby or an animal crying. I know that it is the air trying to get through narrow passages but it is quite disconcerting and alarming. It happens a lot during the day and I do find it frightening.

FACING HARD TRUTH

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Facing hard truth
I alone have to bear it
A truth that no one else truly knows
Seen from the outside
Illusions roam freely
To confort those who watch
Only I can bear it
But can I
Insanity takes me
As the pain rises and rises
My body decaying
Connections going
Already I have become disconnected
From a world that has no meaning for me
A world that does not understand
And never could
For how can one unerstand
Truly the world of another
I hear words
That mean nothing
Spoken kindly
I take from the kindness
And yet
I cannot deliver
I can only deliver death
I give birth to death
Amidst weepings and wailings
The pangs overwhelm me
Is this a death or is it a birth
Is there a new land beyond this
Will I see gold in the sky one day
I fear even to believe it
But dust
I can believe in dust
And to dust I shall return

JUDGEMENT, FORCING AND COERCION

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I have just read an article that has shocked me, and yet it hasn’t. Our world is full of people who think that they are right and that they have the answer to everything and tus they try to force others into what they want them to be. They use all kinds of tools like making others feel small, guilt, judgementalism, sarcasm, blaming and shaming, ostracising and many other things. I want to write further on this when I have had chance to put my thoughts down fully. But for now, I want to say that no one can judge anyone else for how they choose to live their lives. No one has the right to decide who is acceptable and who isn’t. Defining people is a most cruel practice, and can lead to all sorts of issues.

I want to give examples of what I mean, but again, I need to get my thoughts down properly.none of us can be put in boxes though many my try to put us in one. In my life as an academic I have seen so much of this, and though I may be confined to my bed now, and in a terribly bad position, I know what is going on in the wolrd and still have the brain that I always had. My ability to think has not gone and in fact my thinking is sharper than it has ever been. I see more clearly than I ever saw before. If only wisdom could come when we are young rather than when we are older, but many have said that. We cannot know until we have experienced. More on this another time.

YOUR DAILY PROMPT

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The Daily Prompt asks us what bores us.

I get very bored with cricket and with hearing the cricket scores. I have never understood what anyone finds exciting about cricket. I switch off when it comes on the television as my husband likses to listen. Also I get bored with the football results being read out on a Saturday night.

Another thing that I get REALLY bored with is news about celebrities especially all the so called news about how they have worn or almost not worn some revealing dress or other. I often go to Yahoo news and it drives me mad attempting to find some proper news.

I never used to be a very bored person as I could always find something to do, but nowadays I do get bored. I have a lively mind and a very creative one and so boredom used to be foreign to me. I am not too keeen on boredom now.

CALLING ME

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Last night I saw the sun
And knew that it was calling me
It saw me too
Had been waiting
Knowing that this moment would come
It was destined
Long before time began
Even before the world had been born
This place this time
Before all ages this time was waiting
And one day time shall be no more
All will have passed
Even the sun will have gone
But for this moment
The sun is
And it calls me
To the place that was waiting for me

#FOWC – Circulate

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FOWC with Fandango — Circulate

It wasn’t exactly a success. Kim had not long lived in the area, and she wanted to taste of all that was going on there. Scottish Country Dancing was one of them. She had always loved dancing of any kind so when Sheila invited her to join the Scottish Country Dancing Group, she jumped at the chance. Sheila was quite accomplished at it but when Kim attempted to follow what was happening she found it impossible even though instructions were being shouted out at her. In the end she decided just to circulate with her arm outstretched for the right person to take. Most of the time no one took it. She bumped into people, didn’t go under the arches when she was meant to, and mad a complete hash of it. It all came to a climax when she bumped into somebody and ended up on the floor laughing helplessly. No one else was amused and that made Kim all the worse. She ended up leaving in utter disgrace.

MEANING IN LIFE AND DARKNESS

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Once again I have been listening to videos on You Tube of Lake District walks and the places that we used to go. I did it as a diversioon feom what my life is now. In fact, instead of giving me nice memories it did the opposite. But this is happening more and more now. It turn to things to try and get some meaning back into my life but all it does nowadays is emphasise the life that I have, which is black and with no real light in it. We are meant to be positive. We are meant to try to be upbeat even when we have reached the absolute end of our strength.

In the videos there are a few people who began walking as an antidote to their mental health problems. For them, it worked. It would for me too if I could walk and see. I do not have clinical depression but a deep deep deep blackness which comes from my absolutely overwhelming circumstances. My day is just nothing but sitting on the bed in blackness. I try to write and sometimes I can. But so often now I don’t even see the point in writing. I have some odd days when there is a spark that comes back but most of the time I am on automatic pilot. It is impossible to describe my days or what life is like. I went to see Hope my dog one day, but getting downstairs is almost impossible for me. Some of the time I am alone and some of that time I can find something to do. It always was writing but I find that I can’t do that now. It has gone. I am just tired, tired, tired of life. There is no meaning in it for me any more.

When I started this blog I had a sense of meaning and things that I wanted to convey. I called it Blindwilderness because I did feel myself to be in a terrible wilderness and in that wilderness there was pain and difficulty but also the stars. The stars have gone now. It is just the cold hard wilderness.

Always humour has come out, but I am even finding my humour hard to find.

Maybe writing this out will help. It might release something. I used to be able to see some light within the darkness but now I can’t. Nature used to be my go to thing but that is no longer possible for me. I just feel dead inside. There is no meaning for me.

Today I have struggled to write. I have ended just lying on my bed feeling like dying. There comes a point when you can no longer pull yourelf up.

I have asked myself time and time again about whether my life should have ended when I had cancer. It was always in the balance and I had to decide whether to fight or not. I chose to fight but it would have been my natural end if I had not done so. And maybe that would have been best.

I am totally dependent now and that is one thing that I have ALWAYS hated. I hate to be dependent upon others. I simply feel non human any more.

Well this post came out of a black day again. Will tomorrow be better? Who knows. Each day I wake up in terror. Terror of this unending darkness. A darkness that I have tried to embrace and make positive. I have lost it. Just lost it now.

I need to write of my REAL state. Always always I have needed to do it that way. But of course that does no tmake for good blog material.

Where do I go from here?

I feel dead.

I HAVE BEEN TRYING AGAIN

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I have been trying again to respond to comments and things seem to have changed yet again. We are still in contact with the Happiness Engineers and we do get an actual person and not always AI but they are very very slow and nothing ever seems to get fixed. I so wish they would stop altering the layout of things. Someone whom I know who has been on WP for years is having such trouble too and can’t keep up with the changes. So I guess I don’t have much chance. Once again I am very behind. Every evening my husband and I spend a couple of hourse responding to comments because I WANT to. Not because I HAVE to. I want to be fully part of the community and I love all your comments. But wP is really getting up my nose now. Once again please, my new followers, know that I WILL get around to responding and I think you all very much for your lovely comments.

#YOUR DAILY PROMPT – Favourite Drink #1855

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The prompt for today asks us what is our favourite drink

My favourite drink at the moment is ice cold lemonade. I say at the moment because since I finished chemotherapy my favourite drink has changed. The chemotherapy affects the taste buds and things seem to change all the time. At first I loved orange juice mixed with lemonade, but that became too sweet for me and I then just had the lemonade. I loved that because it was sharp and fizzy. The sharpness and the fizz gave me a real zing and a boost. To me it was far better than any alcoholic drink. I always have lemonade with my meals and then sometimes just on its own during the day.

IT HAS BEEN A TERRIBLE DAY TODAY

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If anyone has read my poetry and other offerings today, you may be able to decipher that today is a very very bad day. I cannot hide it. For me, it is vital to blog whatever is happening to me, and today it truly has been my survival mechanism but of necessity it has been that my posts are not exactly soul enhancing.

Some days I get faced with the reality of things so much, that I try to push down in order to kind of survive. It all overwhelmed me and I could no longer pull myself up. I needed to write a letter to someon telling of our circumstances and exactly what is happening to me. But there was no one to send it to. No authority, no agency, no relative, no friend, and I faced a most terrible black brick wall again. I had no idea where to turn as I struggled to simpply exist in a bathroom that is dangerous to me and with which there is no solution, with a bedroom that is so full of rubbish that my husband cannot shift, and that no one will help us with, and not even for money. There are many other things too. We had to change Hope’s vet today as our old one did not have disabled access and was part of a huge concern that did not care for the individual. That was traumatic. Today my husband has been unable to keep up with things, and we have both ended up in a terrible situation.

For myself, I felt that life was no longer worhtwhile, us having done everything possible to change thiings and too keep a positive attitude. We know that this is it now. I knew that logically according to other people I should go into a Home, but even Homes are not suitable for me. We had reached breaking point with nowhere to turn. We were and are alone. This aloneness is driving us mad. We have tried reaching out to so many people but with no success. We are both at the end. Agencies etc that exist in other towns do not exist in ours. We are a backwater fro some reason. Maybe it is the closure of the steelworks but I don’t know. It used to be a community here but it is not now. We are unable even to change a light bulb and no one will do it for us. There are many other simple things like that that we are stuck with. It is impossible to get handymen to do minor jobs because they all want big ones and we have a toilet that keeps blocking and a sink that also keeps blocking. Our bathroom is in a terrible condition and it was never really sorted out after the last owners. I could trace so much of what has happened to us back to our move here. It was a tragic move. In one big way and in so many big ways.

We have given up trying to reach out. We know we are alone. So my mood has not been good today. Inside I am crying and feeling unable to cope any more. This is what CAN happen to people in our society of today.

IN THIS VAST SPACE

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In this vast space
A tiny world
Full of people
Tiny dots
Running around
Aimlessly
Catching onto
Whatever they can
To subdue
Suppress
Never free
Never empty
Always full
Of chingle changle
Until
It all is lost
Faced with a world
Of emptiness
To ask
What is life
Of what worth
Is life now
Death
Knocks at the door
What was it all for
Futility
Takes over
Maybe then the truth
Is being reached
And maybe
Just maybe
It is only when we are empty
That we are really full
Clarity
Has arrived
Truth
Dressed in its best clothes
Now naked
Before our eyes
We watch
As it strips
We behold the miracle
Grasp it in our hands
Sometimes the truth hurts

#YOUR DAILY WRITING PROMPT favourite people

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The prompt is, “who are your favourite people to be around?”

Right now there are no people whom I can be around or who will be around me. I have not seen people for eight months. No one comes to see me and I am not able to get out to see anyone. However, if I could choose, I would want to be around my writing compatriots. A few years ago I attneded a writing group in my town, and everyon there was very different. People from all walks of life, with differnt stories to tell. Some of the stories were amazing, form the North Sea fisherman to the woman who ran off to Germany in her teens. All could have written books about their lives, but none of them did. Meeting with them each week was an absolute joy. Also when I lived in another town before cancer struck me, I went to various different writing groups, and once again, the people were amazing. I had many friends in these groups and some of us became close. I could tell you many amusing anecdotes from those days. Life was never boring and never lonely. Now, I would give anything in the wolrd to be amongst people again. I am now housebound and confined to my bed, but I can relive all of these memores and take pleasure from them, bitterweet though they are.

#FOWC – Inconspicuous

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FOWC with Fandango — Inconspicuous

No one ever really noticed the old man shuffling to the newsagents every morning. Everyone was so busy either making their way to work or rushing around doing some shopping. He became lost in the crowd. An inconspicuous figure. No one ever called on him. His family had all died years ago, and his friends had disappeared one way and another. Then, suddenly he was not there and still no one noticed. Weeks later a smell emanated from his flat in the complex. Upon investigating his body was discovered in the flat. He had been dead for weeks.

THE LETTER

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I have
A letter
I wrote it last night
All that I ever wanted to say
All the things buried deep in my heart
A plea for mercy
A plea for understanding
A pleas for compassion
A plea for help
A letter written in tears
And blood
My very heart
This letter
This sacred thing
Has nowhere to go
No one to send it to
And there’s the rub
I am alone
Each morning
I wake in fear
A fear that most would not understand
A fear that most will never have
Family gone
Friends too
Some to a higher place
Or just to dust
Some alive but uncaring
A heartless rejection
A heartless society
Not one person
No one to send my letter to
I hold it in my hand
Trembling
The silence
The fear
“She did her best”
It said
On the grave where she now lies
“She did her best”
But it was not good enough
She is dead now

#WDYS #226 Leaving It All Behind

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What do you see # 226- February 19, 2024

Written for Sadje’s What Do You See with thanks to Sadje for this prompt

Leaving behind
A tainted life
A cigarette end
Sucked dry
Empty of meaning
A throwaway life
Of empty cardboard coffee mugs
A senseless life
Once full of promise
Once full of anticipation
Hope to be realised
The world is your oyster
They said
He caught no oysters
And there were no pearls
Formed from life’s grit
How oft he had cried to the heavens
A lone cry
Of waste and sorrow
Now it was timme
His time
The cleansing snow
Detachment
Not even any goodbyes
No one to say goodbye to
But here
In this cleansing snow
Was the call of the mountains
A place to lay his head
To commune with the birds
The forest and the solid earth
Here he could be formed
Once again
A new clean being
At one with Creation

#YOUR DAILY WRITING PROMPT – #1853 Favourite Shoes

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Prompt is, to tell about our favourite pair of shes and where they took us

My favourit pair of shoes would have to actually be my first pair of walking boots. Strangely, I was writing about walking boots in a post that I made yesterday. However, my very first ever pair of walking boots was very special indeed. I would never have imagined myself purchasing such a thing. I probably didn’t even really know what they were. The only boots I ever saw were those on the feet of my uncles on the farm where I often went as a child. It was when my husband and I went for our first ever holiday in the Lake District in England that I discovered that many people wore walking boots. I found this mysterious and wondered why they had to wear them. I was young an naive. I was also inquisitive. They were, of course, for walking up fells and mountains in. Along with all the other gear like huge rucksacks, brightly coloured cagoules, and what sometimes liiked like everything but the kitchen sink, I wondered what on earth it was like up those often cuddly looking hills. I learned that they could be dangerous and that you had to be equipped properly. I then experienced what I can only say was like a call to go and find out for myself. I would go and traverse that dangerous terrain. I would see what it was really like. And so, my husband and I purchased our first pair of walking boots, along with all the other equipment.

The first thing that we tackled was a very low fell compared to everything else. We thought it would be easy, and we set off up it one evening. It was much harder walking than we had thought it would be. It was steep, and we had almost to climb rather than walk. It was rockly and in places there was loose scree. It was a bit of a baprism in fire. However, once we got to the top we were exhilarated. There had never been as good a feeling as this before.

After that we were determined to tackly the higher and more difficult climbs, culminating in Scafell Pike, the highest mountain in England. Not the U.K note, as there are higher ones in Scotland and Wales. But Scafell Pike is over 3000 feet high. We looked it up in the books and guides particularly Alfred Winwright’s books, and there was no way we were not going to do it. We chose the quickest but most scenic way up. It was also the hardest. But we could do it. And we did. We took our time and it took us eight hours to get there and back. We were both so exhilarated to have done it though. We were proper walkers now. After that we did the Langdale Pikes and then High Street, and numerous others. We always wanted to do Blencathra but never got round to it.

I had it in my mind that we would travel abroad and do some of the higher mountains, but we never did get ther due to my husband starting with his post polio syndrome. I was so glad that we had done all of that whilst we were young enough and before illness prevented us from doing it.

I AM MANY PEOPLE

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I am many different people. I think we all are. I am awake in the night again because I am trying to deal with the feelings that I have about my life as it is now. I have lived by keeping hoping that the next day things will be better. In fact I have been determined that they will be. But then it never happens. I wake up in the same pain as the day before and the exact same problems and the same struggles and I have to accept that this is how it is going to be. Each day I tell myself that I will go out tomorrow, but it never happens.

I read a book some time ago by a man called John Hull. He was an academic and a professor at at University. He knew his blindness was coming and eventaully he found himself in what he called “deep darkness.” That was when he could not longer tell day from night. I understand completely this title for it and that is where I find myself. He found himself struggling just as I do, with the most terrible fear and panic, depression, etc. he could walk and he walked to work at the University each day but when he got home at night he cried. I feel like that too. I spend my days trying to be busy, usually writing or on my blog, and that takes my mind off things. Being stuck to this bed all day longh is not very nice. But I do thngs. Then during the night all the feelings overwhelm me and I can’t sleep or maybe I dare not sleep for the nightmares.

I don’t know how many people I am, but I am changing all of the time. I think I am still trying to find out who I am in my new circumstances. I have sometimes gone the wrong way in trying to find out but we all make mistakes.

I want always to be honest. Even if that honesty is raw.

I guess I should try to sleep anyway. The morning will have enough challenges of its own.

ESCAPE

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I am finding more and more that I am wanting to escape from my real lived life as it is,
into the things of the past that were happy or at least eventful and interesting. We are unable to look to the future and every day is going to be the same from now on with no improvement and so to escape into a world that I or we used to know is a wonderful thing to do. I long to write about these things, and yesterday I started writing about my grandparents’ farm, and all the things that happened there and of what it meant. It was a very historic place, having been originally a Grange that the Brothers from Thornholme Priory at Appleby in Lincolnshire farmed and lived in. The farm was therefor medieval and was very atmospheric and it was such a happy place for me. I want to make it into a kind of novel but I am not sure if I can. I may post bits of it in here, but we will see.

I also want to write about the Lake District but again, I am not sure that I have enough material to make it interesting. My grandparents’ farm is exceedingly interesting but not so sure about the Lake District. We never saw any ghosts or anything like that, although we did have a few narrow squeaks on some of the more difficult climbs.

All in all, it is important for me to escape.

There was a time in around 2016 when the ophthalmologist at the hospital thought that he might be able to get me my eyesight back, and a date was arranged for him to try. However, after going though all the roller coaster of emotions that accompanied that, it never happened and it would have been hopeless him trying. I would have had to have a general anaesthetic and the anaesthetist refused to allow me an anaesthetic as there was too much wrong with my lungs and my heart. He was unable to take the risk as he said that I may well have died during the operation. There was some argument about this at the hospital and I myself did not know what to do. I was told that I would only be allowed an anesthetic if I was going to die and an operation might save me. A horrible position to be in, and I am still in that position now. It is very scary. It is a good job that the opthalmologist never tried to do his operation as it would not have worked anyway and he was going to use a procedure that was not backed up by his professional body. It was dangerous.

What would I give now to get my eyesight back? I long for it back, but would I go through that with no real possibility of success? I don’t think so, but in my dreams I imagine being able to get it back. I imagine that it might be possible. Then I become very depressed and distressed as I contemplate it all. I AM blind now and there is no getting away from it. But at this time of year it is particularly hard and so my way now is to escape into the past. For me, everything comes flooding out through my pen, or my fingers and my keyboard. So this must be my way forwards now. Let’s see what happens.

BOOTS GALORE AND WALKS IN THE LAKES

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At the bottom of our wardrobes there are loads of pairs of walking boots. They will no longer be used but they remind me of happier times when we walked and climbed in the English Lake District. We used up so many boots that we always bought a pair each when we saw them reduced in price in a sale. So many of our boots are still really good and unused. These, and the fact that it happens to be sunny today reminds me of how, at around this time in the year we would be planning our first camping trip of the year to the Lake District. The excitement would grow as we read Wainwright continually and wondered which mountain or fell to climb, and we would look at the camp sites to decide which one to go to. We always ended up going to the same tried and tested one. We always had our first trip towards the middle or end of May. A perfect time as not too hot and not too cold. Then we had to decide whether to go in just the little tent or the bigger one. I was always attracted to the little one that you could not even stand up in but, when I found myself in it, it was not as easy as I had imagined it. Lol. Today, we have, once again, been listening to You Tube videos of Lake District walks, and climbs in the mountains. Last night we went along Striding Edge on Hellvellyn in our imaginations, though we were neever brave enough to do it in real life.

Happy days. I feel like putting up a vid of the song “These boots were made for walking” but the words don’t exactly fit what I want to say lol

IN A LAND OF GREY

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In a land of grey
Where fog never disappears
Objects become strange

In this foreign land
I know not how to travel
Pictures indistinct

Confused bewlidered
My world has turned on its head
I try to find stars

Head aching I sleep
Blotting out all that I knew
Go into my dreams

I wake with a jolt
The fog remains in my head
I lose my balance

FORGETTING AND REMEMBERING

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Many people assume that when you go blind you can still remember things and what they look like and that you can recall the picture of them in you mind. For me this has not been so. I find that I am living in a permanent fog of trying to remember. It is frustrating to not be able to remember the things of nature very well, and faces, and I love to do word challenges but often I am scratching my head as I try to recall things and to make up poetry. I find that things in our home, I can no longer remember. For instance, I cannot remember what the taps look like on our bathroom sink. It might sound stupid and it feels stupid to me, but it is true. I cannot remember our rooms properly. Thhings that were once so familiar are now strange to me. Sometimes my husband is trying to communicate something to me and he thinks that I can see them in my mind, but I can’t. It is so weird.

HOPE’S DIARY. Green worms

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I just had to write this because I have had some green worms. Dad gave them to me with my dinner tonight with my minced beef, carrots and potatoes. I had never had green worms before but Dad said they were fine beans. Well I don’t care what they were, they were still worms. I chomped on them and they tasted good. I think I am a queer dog because I love vegetables.

I got absolutely soaking wet today and Dad didn’t know until he let me in after I had insisted on going out. I was absolutely drenched and I wet Dad’s trousers all over.

I haven’t got much else to report but I think that green worms were worth doing a real post on. I don’t know what I am having tomorrow. I know there is minced beef and gravy left though. Here’s hoping.

Woof woof tail wags

A REALLY FUNNY THING HAPPENED

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This morning suddenly my husband who had been asleep let out the loudest scream I have ever heard. It went on for a long time and was a scream of utter anguish and fear. Because of the nature of it, I woke up too and screamed loudly as well. I had no idea what on earth was happening. I was terified. He then told me he had had a really loud bang in his ear and that he had beem shot. I told him he had not been shot. But by that time both of us were literally trembling and shking uncontrollably. I have never ever heard him yell like that before. I thought he was dying. He has no idea why it happened but he says he thought he was being shot. I am a bit nervous about tomorrow morning lol