Post 200: Taste Cumbria and the Mighty Hike
Apology given but unaccepted,
I feel like crap and totally rejected,
Another disaster created more stress,
What have I done to cause this mess.
———
Sometimes you have to concede defeat.
When faced with a problem you can’t fix, it’s hard to move on.
It’s hard to sleep.
It’s hard to believe it’s even happening — but sure enough, it is.
I don’t know what caused it, and the only way to find out would be to ask her directly.
Today I had my head bitten off for no apparent reason, and as I was sitting next to her, I asked, “I can’t say anything to you, can I?”
She glared back, silent.
So I’ve apologised and been so very careful, treading on eggshells to no avail.
I’m fed up — stuck in an impossible situation.
I wish I could fix it, but if one side won’t speak, the silence just continues.
Up until last Tuesday we were happy — close and friendly.
I don’t know what’s happened in the week since.
Is it me?
———
The moment above happened around 2 p.m., while we were warming ourselves in a café with cups of steaming tea and coffee. There was no reaction from my eldest or my Darling, and the rest of the day carried on as if nothing had been said — all four of us together right until Strictly ended and another dancer was voted out.
Taste Cumbria could have done with a roof and a few heaters, but the northern folk didn’t seem to mind the drizzle. The stalls stood firm on the wet grass and the smells were wonderful — cheeses, chutneys, hot food, and chatter. We bought some strong cheese laced with flavour and a jar of chilli pickle. The farm burgers were apparently fabulous, as was my Thai green curry.
For pudding, I found a bread stall selling irresistible Eccles cakes and huge snowballs, so by the time we left for that café my pockets were well stocked.
On the way home we stopped at a huge garden centre, Christmas decorations already everywhere. To be honest, it cheered me up a bit — though the ache still lingered. It’s amazing how easy it is to find space to hide in a big place like that.
Dinner later was simple: a Welsh rarebit made from the artisan loaf our eldest had bought earlier, followed by the Eccles cakes and snowball I’d been guarding all afternoon. Strictlydistracted us for a while until it was time to go.
No usual hug this time — and I wasn’t going to force it. We parted on oddly strained terms.
———
Because I believe I’ve done nothing wrong, I’m struggling to understand her attitude.
And I’m also struggling to understand the quietness of my eldest and my Darling — though perhaps it’s just self-defence.
Whatever it is, it’s a distraction from the cancer — so it’s not all bad.
(I wish that was funny.)
Maybe the stronger winds at the start of the week will blow away this dark cloud.
Have a great week.
PS
My Eldest surprised my Darling and I this evening after supper with an announcement of some magnitude.
He will be walking on next years MacMillan Mighty Hike June 6th 2026 and both of us couldn’t be happier and more proud.
A grand end to the day.
Well done son.
