Believe it or not I am 90 today,
Do I look it ? Yes
Do I feel it? Sometimes
Am I pleased to have got this far? Ask me next year
Has it been a happy birthday? Yes, very happy
Friends, gifts flowers card and best of all affection
May you all be so lucky
Regrets? Just wish I could still sing
Maybe next year. Who knows.
I don’t know whether this will still work but thought I’d have a go
Just in case anyone happens on this message
Hello
I am still (loosely) attached to this site am still occasionally singing in St M’s choir and getting older by the second.
It is a full time job keeping my one remaining brain cell ticking so have difficulty finding my “inner author” but when has that ever stopped me.
The lack of digital skills is increasing as technology advances and my arthritic fingers have a life of their own.
All in all not exactly a celebration of my 89 years, more a confirmation that despite appearances I am still alive
It strikes me as odd that there is no pattern to insomnia (mine anyway), and no apparent cause.
Neither being overly busy, or particularly idle the previous day seems to have a bearing on spending the night wide-eyed or blissfully unconscious.
Too old to care much about my baggy-eyed appearance after a sleepless night I am still aware that my brain functions on a single cylinder and at about half its normal speed the following day, which is not a desirable state for someone who still likes to appear to be in possession of some of their faculties.
Watching night-time TV is not for the faint hearted, and is either over stimulating, or excrutiatingly dull .
I have abandoned my book (Richard Osman's excellent "The man who died twice"), because I want to make it last rather than read it all in one go.
Talking to myself , while not unusual, is unrewarding at this timeof night/morning so silence reigns.
I am not, after all these years, seeking a non-existent cure for sleeplessness, just an idea of some other way of filling the long boring silent hours when all good folk should be abed.
Never one to dwell too long on uncomfortable news daily happenings local or worldwide, or even knowingly to pay much attention to other peoples' heated arguments unless directly involving my own life, I am finding everyday life increasingly difficult.
The world I knew appears to be vanishing, drowning in a sea of problems which it is impossible to ignore.
If I believed I could do anything to change things for the better, to offer a solution or a personal contribution which would ease the tide of damage harm and destruction which is assailing the entire planet I would gladly make whatever sacrifice was necessary, but at the moment nothing I can think of would make the slightest difference,
Of course I can and do pray and sign petitions and make financial contributions where appropriate but what are such activities worth I cannot help but ask?
The fact that I am now a very old woman with Parkinson's disease and a variety of other 'blessings' to add to the equation means that I find that one thing I can do with no effort whatever, is fall asleep at the drop of a hat, usually when watching something on TV which I have been looking forward to.
The same, however, cannot be said when I go to bed.
There, sleep as it always has, evades my every effort and much of the night is spent on the computer or watching even more awful TV.
When I eventually go back to bed I can guarantee that within a few minutes of finally dropping off to sleep something, some noise, sound or outside activity will have me jumping out of bed looking out of the window to see what form of nocturnal entertainment is being provided this time.
Tonight to my utter amazement, a man in a Hi vis jacket was walking round the Close with a metal rod in his hand, lifting the metal covers on the water pipe thingies. Every single one was lifted, peered into dropped back with a clang and off he marched,
This was at 12.45 am
What next I wonder?
I can hardly contain my excitement!
No, that's not right, it has b een so dark most of the day that I had the lights on most of the time.
Maybe it can only be night because the television is silent (for once)
No, sometimes I have to sit and watch whatever is onbecause I can't sleep.
Why is there no distant sound of traffic.
Why is there no bird song
Oh a clue, I am wearing my nightdress.
But I'm not in bed.
Now I know it is night because in the corner of my computer it says 1.43 am.
I know I am old (87 last week) but I can still tell the time.
I have no idea whether this will work but am attempting to re-enter the world of Blog.
Last July I decided that since my life was on hold until pandemic rules were dropped I would not bore anyone with more blogs about nothing at all.
From October when i had made up my mind to go back to church/choir nothing but problems filled my daily life. First several weeks of agonising sciatica, followed by a large cyst on my back which I could neither see nor reach, entailing trips to the surgery 3times a week for cleaning packing of the wound and dressing etc, Great fun!
A chill causing stomach problems and a series of nose-bleeds, sudden and heavy. All these and a breakdown of my gas central heating pump. followed by a leak through the ceiling and down the central light fitting in the small bedroom (on Christmas Eve) have filled my every waking moment with the expectation of a plague of locusts any day now. Other than that, life has been boring for the past 2 years and I didn't feel inclined to share my gloom with all and sundry.
Were it
She offered to get her 21 year old daughter to have a look at it for me.
Having done so she (the daughter) explained that I needed a new Sim and that she waould get it sorted for me.
Since it is only a very basic phone and I only use it for calling emergency taxis if needed I agreed to get it up-dated. She kindly did this for me but it is now no longer a Vodaphone but has a much simpler and easier to renew Tesco Sim.
Having put a new number on it (irrelevant since I never leave it switched on) it is now ready for use.
At midnight that night I was startled out of a deep early sleep by a loud ring-tone and still half asleep staggered into the next room to find my phone illuminating the whole room and making enough noise to wake the whole County.
I must have left it switched on so immediately turned it off and went back to bed.
The next night (tonight), exactly the same thing happened again. This time I put a light on to make sure I turned it off properly.
Unable to go back to sleep and now a bit nervous as to why or even how a phone which is turned off can turn itself back on, and also why midnight is its chosen time to do so, I wonder if anyhone can throw anhy light on my mystery?
If it happens toorrow night I might just decide to answer it. Or maybe not, what do you think?
Getting into a taxi there and back felt very strange after all this time but the sense of things beginning to be possible again is real and positive.
Since March 18th 2020 I haven't set foot in the town or on public transport so the anticipation of doing so in the next few days or weeks seems like a dream.
Early in the pandemic I couldn't wait for life to return to normal but now it feels very adventurous even to consider a first tentative foot in that direction.
I hope this doesn't mean I've lost my nerve for all time and become a timid old lady, but the next couple of weeks will prove it, one way or the other.
It is lovely to feel a sense of hope and that there is something to look forward to again it's just a question of gathering up my nerve and making the first move.
At present I feel very lucky not to have had a close encounter with the virus and to be among those who have been vaccinated against it.
My thoughts and prayers are with all those around the world who have not been so fortunate.
A life-long insomniac used to sleeping in short snatches, often filled with quite odd dreams, this last year has made an unexpected impact on my sleeping patterns.
On several occasions recently I have half-woken and found myself laughing hysterically at something I found so funny that I would get up and still only half awake write down what I had heard.
In the morning fully awake there would be a scribbled half joke which didn't even raise a smile.
A few days ago I once again woke up but this time I remembered the entire joke/funny story complete with all the punctuation.
I got up and wrote it out in full, exactly as it was heard, or dictated or read to me.
The next morning I got up full of anticipation and this is what I read
Customs officer to old lady immigrant
"Are you carrying any firearms madam?"
Old lady "Yes of course I am"
Customs offical
What weapons are you carrying?"
Old lady "10 Kalashnikovs and a water pistol"
Customs offical
What is the water pistol for?"
Old lady "To drown anyone who tries to steal my Kalashnikovs"
As jokes go, I think it could be described as 'alternative', but I still find it funny and wonder just where it came from.
I await the next one with interest.
Today's images of a busy and determined Joe Biden swiftly undoing with a signature many of his predecessor's worst decisions, it is natural, though perhaps unwise to imagine that all is set to change.
From what I have read over recent months of Biden's history there can be little doubt of his integrity, however, the opposition he will face will be formidable and it is unlikely that swords will be laid down without further bloodshed.
Trump's supporters are not in general among the more rational of the USA's population, nor are they likely to respond to appeal to reasoned argument.
This, in addition to the terrible damage wreaked by Covid and the deeply divided opinions everywhere other than the North East means democracy is going to have a fight on its hands such as never seen before.
The rest of the world will no doubt be holding its breath as the next month or two unfolds.
Good luck Joe and may God go with you.
A year of fear anxiety grief and loneliness for so many and with none of the feel-good factors which normally make our days worth while.
This week I have lost a sister-in-law, my late husband's one remaining sibling, and yesterday a well-loved friend from church. The list goes on growing.
The one sure thing is that looking forward really is the only way to face a New year, looking back on this one will give no-one pleasure.
So what have we?
We have hope and that springs eternal, or so we are told.
We have the vaccine, or vaccines (at last).
We, the lucky ones still have the chance to avoid the virus and prayer to sustain us,
Not too shabby.
A blessed New year to one and all.
There is no suitable illustration for this year's Christmas Eve so plain and unadorned it is.
My increasingly long gaps between posts are a reflection of this rather awful year.
In the heyday of blogging when life was full of interest and possibilities it was easy to sit and rattle off a few paragraphs full of nothing very much, but happy in tone.
To be brutally honest I have found it very diffilcult to pretend that all was well and still there was something to enjoy every day.
This year has been a beast of a very different nature for nearly everyone, old or young. Surrounded by family or alone.
It has always been my contention that being alone was not the same as being lonely. This year has proved me wrong.
Someone who dropped by (on my drive while I stood in the doorway), said "I would love to give you a hug", to which my response was, "hopefullyy soon".
As I said it I realised that the last time anyone actually touched me was in mid February during the exchange of "the peace" at St Mary's.
The neighbours who take me food shopping once a week tell me they are amazed by my upbeat attitude, and that they think I am doing very well.
All I can say is that I must be a better actress than I thought.
Despite being in tier 4 and with litttle prospect of anything better for quite some time there is at least the promise of the vaccine, which at my advanced age should be coming my way fairly soon, so all is not quite so dark as it was.
Every Sunday I "attend" the 10 am service on youtube and enjoy (and envy) the virtual choir and later on this evening I will be at Midnight Mass, so to speak.
Without the choir (even if not physically present), and the Christmas services this year would be a pretty miserable one, but I have good friends and neighbours, a warm comfortable house and plenty to eat and drink.
So many people world-wide have none of these things which gives me a kick right where i most need it.
At Midnight Mass tonight I will pray for them, for all of us, and yes, for myself too,
May we, you all have a happy Christmas and a very much healthier and happier New Year.
I won't quote Tiny Tim but you know what I mean.
My favourite author for more than 30 years I somehow expected at the very least, immortality,
When my husband was still alive one of my Christmas presents would always be the latest Le carre, and the present I would treasure most.
Not always an easy read, full of intrigue, treachery betrayal and the worst behaviours of which human-kind is capable, he nevetheless imbued all of his characters with such recognizeable traits common to all of us that we could easily identify with their humanity.
Through even the most convoluted plots there always ran a strong vein of integrity so one felt that this was the real world of the spy.
Apparently a rather private man who didn't really like too much public attention, he seems to have had a dislike for all the fuss and flag-waving. chest-thumping sort of "patriotism" which accompanied the launch of his "Tinker Tailor" books.
It seems hard to imagine that there will be no more such treasures to look forward to.
May he rest in peace.
For the last 2 or 3 weeks I have been beset with daily and sometimes twice-daily calls from BT and Amazon.
Both sets of fake callers have a similar technique, beginning with "your BT Broadband will be discontinued from 9.00am to,morrow, Or, Your Amazon account will withdraw the amount of £79 from your account tomorrow".
They then say if I wish to prevent this happening I should press 1 ....
Needless to say they are both automated calls so no reply is possible, so what I now do is say (to no-0ne) "Good luck with that" and then leave the phone off the base and walk away.
I know this will only result in their losing a very small amount of money but it gives me a small malicious gleam of satisfaction.
You would think they would be bright enough to work out that if they get nowhere after the first twenty or thirty calls they are never going to do so, but apparently they can afford to go on phoning endlessly, leaving me with the hope that I can at least outlive them!
This is my third attempt to blog in a week and the first time I have succeded in getting anything in print.
My theme was to illustrate the similarity between one of the crumbling walls of St Mary's and my own ancient frame.
For both of us papering over the cracks is no longer effective and while the church is at least beginning to obtain the necessary funds to do a good repair, my own repairs are long past having any real value.
The result will, in time, be a beautifully restored 12th/13th Century grade 1 listed building and a handful of dust.
This is exactly the way it should be but, seeing (usually accidently) my reflection in a mirror, I find it hard to recognise my present appearance when in my mind I am still 35.
This awful year with the loss of relatives friends and members of my (social) circle, has been and still is something of an endurance test.
Normally there would be the wonderful prospect of learning practising and singing all the lovely Christmas music, with a welcome rest afterwards to look forward to.
This year every forseeable day will be exactly the same as the rest of the year has been.
Living alone has its merits but this year has illustrated poignantly and vividly just how much the company of others matters.
Let's hope and pray that the good news about the various vaccines will prove to be the means of all of us beginning to live our lives again.
This old ruin should be good for another decade or so with luck.
Hopes of a national/international triumph over the virus are fading fast as numbers of infections once more rise at an alarming rate world-wide.
Yet still some stupid people are risking their own and everyone else's lives with careless selfish behaviours which are endangering everyone they come into contact with.
However unwelcome the idea of another total lock-down may be, it is beginning to look more and more likely to happen.
For those of us still being shopped for or suported by neighbours friends or relatives or even more usually, volunteers, there seems no end in sight to the massive debt we owe all those wonderful people.
How, or when we may be able to repay this debt is quite a major concern for many of us, while also being aware that the longer this goes on the more likely it is that some, probably most people will begin to suffer from altruism fatigue.
In the first rush of genuine concern and warmth of feeling many people produced amazing feats of generosity and kindness, but it would be unreasonable to expect the outpouring of good will to last indefinitely.
We are all, after all human.
I am still offering prayers of thankfulness for all who are keeping me alive, but am also only too aware that expecting such angelic behaviour to continue for ever is asking far too much.
I wonder if anyone has factored in to the statistics the fact that at some stage the entire voluntary support system is likely to collapse.
God bless the volunteers.
At first this worried me, but now nearly seven months since I ventured out into the real world it is no longer a matter of concern.
Soon, as it becomes darker and the days shorter it will no longer matter whether it is day or night.
Like many of us I have learned a new way of using my days/nights and find that in my case it is better to do what needs doing as soon as it appears necessary, or with the switch of a button the monster in the corner otherwise known as the TV will rule all my waking hours.
Yes I still feed the birds and record their daily appearance in my garden for my BTO records, and I still occasionally walk out and dead-head roses and other shrubs.
I walk to the post-box (all of a quarter of a mile) and back and consider my exercise for the day to be complete.
A phone call from a friend or even the window cleaner has become a major 'happening' filling my day with good feelings, while the silent days merely cause hollow echoes of a previous life.
Since the only outing I now can look forward to is the weekly shop courtesy of my kind and lovely neighbours, I find it increasingly difficult to imagine a time when (hopefully) there will be a church, and a town and library and other wonderful things to enjoy.
Worst of all, is the suspicion that I may now have become accustomed to isolation.
If anybody has a storecupboard full of motivation will you please send me some, by carrier pigeon (suitably masked of course).
The photograph above of the view from St Mary's south door down to the gate is, I think , a particularly atmospheric one.
It has an almost Dickensian feel and I loved it so much that I stole it from our newsletter. I don't know who took it but they obviously have a sense of drama almost as well developed as mine.
A more compelling reason for using it is to remind me that it is nearly six months since I last set foot in St M's.
Although I greatly value the zoomed service on Sunday, it is a very poor substitute for actually being there, ensconced with the rest of the choir in the chancel and able to sing and take part whole-heartedly.
They have started to hold services again, but with only a very few (30) in the congregation and of course with no 'live' choir, and I can't help wondering if and when that will be replaced with the real thing.
Some people who can get to the church on foot cannot understand why I and many others are not even contemplating getting there by public transport (if any), or by taxi, but so far I haven't dared to risk any such means.
The virus, I fear, will be with us for a very long time and I'm trying very hard not to feel cheated of my one real pleasure.
Real life these days for me and many thousands like me is a poor imitation of our previous one.
At present I go shopping with a neighbour and that is it. Once a week and no other jaunts. Sometimes it feels like a bad dream, but this is apparently the way life has to be lived for the forseeable future.
I apologise if this is a miserable epistle but sadly that's how I feel at present. My sense of humour appears to have packed its bags and departed. Can't say I blame it.
Sorry about the lay-out Google has changed access to everything.
