My young human prince (son, Ming) has rediscovered his princely ways. Obviously a lot of his recent angst was to do with having unwittingly fractured some of the titanium in his spine post scoliosis surgery, and having to quit milking cows, and feeling emasculated by not being able to ever lift anything heavy. We have now seen the surgeon again and Ming is scheduled for revision surgery in the next couple of months. It has been a bit of a dramatic couple of weeks with tears etc. but over that now and have bought ramps and a trolley to help us lift stuff that is too heavy. Example: as we don’t get a rubbish collection, we have to take stuff to the local dump. Today it was some heavy stuff but the trolley + ramp thing worked beautifully! Such a relief.
Yesterday I was going to write about how glad I am that I started blogging back in November, 2011, because otherwise I would possibly have forgotten some of the events, details and emotions from then until now, and I don’t want to forget. But I was having a bit of a blah day so couldn’t be bothered putting the words down and decided, instead, to post the photo of the big red shed because I forgot I had already done this a few days ago. I’m surprised nobody commented on my memory lapse! And if my memory is so bad that I re-posted an already posted photo, then I am doubly glad of this blog as a memory prompter. But I still feel stupid – oh well!
Today I had numerous errands around town so I went to pick up Anthony to accompany me (as I often do now). He sits in the car with the radio on while I hop in and out, drive here and there. First though we met my mother at a coffee shop and, as usual, my ma and I had lots of conversation while Ants remained fairly silent (he doesn’t talk much now). Eventually, Anthony tried to get up out of his chair, indicating he’d had enough, so we left and, as I was putting him in the car, I asked, “How come you got sick of us?” and he said, with sudden articulateness, “Because nothing either of you said was of any interest to me.” As we drove off to the first errand, I could not stop laughing! His sense of humour is so slicingly droll.
The sun is having a hard time getting through the clouds but it is happening, this belated spring. Here are some photos to prove it (and so I don’t forget!)
Yesterday I went to the dentist to have what I thought would be a routine filling, but the tooth was too far gone so it had to be yanked out.
Now that I’ve grossed you out, here is a picture of this morning. Prince’s tail feathers are almost as long as King’s.
I don’t think I’m much good at this daily diary thing – I can’t seem to get the coherence right!
I think feeling happy is a bit different to being happy. Maybe this is because when you simply are happy (because your bank account, love-life, health, job, family and friends etc. are all okay) you don’t notice the happiness; you don’t appreciate it. But when you feel happy, you are noticing the fragile edges, blossoms, and sunsets of whatever happiness is and you are learning how to create it day by day by day.
Today, my happiness was hugging my baby peacock, having lunch at an Indian restaurant with my friend/niece, Jane, buying baking utensils for my new cooking phase, watching TV with Anthony in the nursing lodge whilst giving him the last of the sticky date pudding with lots of thickened cream, knowing my ma will be home soon from Scotland, riding my bike, watching ‘Undercover Boss’ with Ming, and looking forward to tomorrow’s unfolding.
Atop my shoulder
This beautiful little friend
My teenage peacock
[Many thanks to Samantha for this photo of G9 yesterday].
Just checking in halfway through my blogbreak. Thanks to all for comments on last few posts – I really appreciate it and had intended to reply, sorry!
I’ve temporarily unsubscribed from most blogs to give myself a break, but will get back eventually I hope.
It’s just that I am so sad at the moment, about Anthony, because of how fast the dementia is happening now.
Ming, Gutsy9 and I are all fine which somehow seems wrong. I miss Anthony so much.
Gutsy9 (the 5-month-old peachick I raised inside the house because none of our peahens were interested) is thriving outside now. He sleeps in a pen with the ducks, Zaruma and Tapper, but every morning I find him in the adjacent pen with the turkeys, Bubble and Baby Turkey! Oh well at least he doesn’t venture into the geese pen because Godfrey hates him.
As soon as I open the three pens to let them all free-range for the day, I am met with a cacophony of excited noises and then G9 actually sprints after me to the house and follows me inside.
Until today. Today I decided to say no to him, and tried to explain that his peacock poop is the reason. He wasn’t happy!
Oh and G9 is definitely a boy because our friend, Mike, who raises peas told me so. I’m not as thrilled as Anthony was when Ming was born and he yelled IT’S A BOY!
Secretly I was hoping for a little peahen – ha!
Gutsy9 isn’t quite sure about my mother’s weird canary, Andre, who I am babysitting while she is in hospital. Five months ago they were the same size!
When a young woman marries a man who is 23 years older than she is, the term ‘gold digger’ tends to fly through country towns such as this one, and sometimes insinuates itself into the gossip of all and sundry.
Ming was conceived on our honeymoon (March 1993) and born a very decent 9 months later (January 1994) but, by this time, I had already been labelled as a gold digger. I wasn’t happy about this but there was nothing I could do about it. Anthony laughed the gossip off, and so did I, eventually.
So imagine my shock when my friend – JL – informed me yesterday that she had recently heard a story from her brother-in-law (who is friends with the bus driver at Anthony’s nursing lodge) about me!
JL: Well the bus driver told N that they sometimes take the men’s group for a visit to a farm that has peacocks.
Me: Yes – it’s a wonderful arrangement because they bring tea and scones and feed the birds and it’s a great way of getting Ants home for a couple of hours.
JL: But the bus driver said that every time they come to the peacock farm, the young lady who owns the farm starts kissing and cuddling one of the residents – a bloke called Anthony – and she is all over him, obviously after his money.
JL: It’s okay, N. told him you were Anthony’s wife.
Me: Oh thank goodness – what must they have all been thinking!
I’m guffawing too much to go out for my daily gold-digging expedition!