Post 382: Brown stains in ma sheets, tra la la, la la.
With a look of worry and disgust when I looked at my bed covers and sheets this morning, I decided it was a washing day.
Too many Easter eggs being broken up and eaten in bed has caused some chocolate-melt fallout. Ha ha.
It did look somewhat worrying before I scratched some of the sheet and licked it to test what it was. I got lucky—ha ha.
I have clean sheets and covers now, and they all look and smell lovely.
I had another very lazy day, but I did make up my mind about the Volvo I love so dearly.
It’s going.
I went onto the online auction site where I had chance to see it four years ago.
After the purchase I soon got to grip of what needed to be done to get it roadworthy.
I also realised that the money I put into this car—lovingly restoring it to a daily runaround—I had no chance of getting back. But boy, did I have fun while it lasted.
It’s taken me to chemo and other treatments, as well as trips to Hampshire a few times, Goodwood too—but the longest trip in a day by far was to York and back. It was an honour to be with Olive (named after my mum’s middle name) as she took us here and there and won the appreciation of the masses who saw her.
In a couple of weeks the auction will open, and I hope the money made will be enough to satisfy my wallet.
While I was able to get the online stuff underway, the physical side of things will take longer. A cameraman comes tomorrow evening for a photo shoot, and I’ll grab the paperwork and folders of info to visibly pad out the maintenance records.
There have only been two owners before me, which it shows in its authentic appearance, inside and out.
I’m in two minds about the sale of my beautiful car. I can’t drive it any more, and if it had powered steering I’d be happier to keep it.
The steering is not the only thing stopping my enjoyment of the old girl—the limitations of my crumbling body are.
I can’t kid myself that I’m okay to drive it everywhere like I used to and wanted to—shame that it is.
So it’s goodbye to the car I always wanted—but bought in the same month as my cancer diagnosis and that milestone is something I’d rather forget actually.
Yet there’s still a little way to go before I say a final farewell to the car that never let me down.
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I never did get up and get dressed today. I had my dressing gown on all day. Again—why bother if you’re not awaiting friend nor enemy to pop by.
Tomorrow’s suit fitting will be a very different story, and I’ll be glad of the rest today — a day that never really got started.
K-dramas and fruit are all the fun we had, and after a few smiles and laughs we slept through some of the adverts while our eyes rested under tired lids.
A sleepy text to friends up north woke us up, however.
The thinking was all being done by our friend, whose pals are visiting soon—next month, in a month’s time. Time enough to forget this conversation, but she stepped down from the kitchen high chair she was on, intent on reaching for the calendar on the wall just out of reach.
Her pals were staying with her for four days, covering the weekend that our eldest does a Macmillan marathon-length walk around a very large lake.
In fact, I was asking if I could stay, to which the answer is always in the affirmative—and while we were sharing one very sleepy brain cell down south, she was on fire with a rearrangement of her friends’ trip, extending their drive to pick me up and take me back home. Those long, hard extra miles I would be adding to their journey.
In the end they were delighted to be of service and happy to help me visit up north, where I could congratulate our eldest on this enormous, generous and public-spirited walk to raise money for prostate cancer charities. Nearly £1k now.
I was so grateful for a bit of free thinking and happy assistance leading us all to have a more interesting time than we expected.
Wow! What a wonderful gift of friendship.
It means that there are still people in this world who love you from a distance, and if you let them, they will show that love in spades.
My aches are still there, but less so after a loving spoonful. The shoulder is gradually easing but will take time to heal. And my worries about this or that are smaller as time goes on, with the help of others we didn’t foresee.
I’ll leave it there and get my beauty sleep so I can ease into suits and shirts tomorrow.
Take care
Goodnight and sleep well
