Post 393: The water hose and in and out of the shed.
Why do some days go like clockwork and others go even better?
Ha ha, had you there.
When my Darling came home from work frazzled but stubbornly sticking to a plan she must have had in her mind all the way home, I could but go along with the idea, no matter how good or bad it was.
We are a pair and no mistake. If one has a problem the other will tag along for the ride and when I’m pretty-well stuck in my chair all day it’s common practice for us both to sit it out — as my Darling did today. Little did she know that this morning I was exceeding the laws of my physique.
Mid-morning I did send her a photo of the cat rolling around in the sunshine while I fitted up the hosepipe and doused the tree and the flowers beneath — whatever they are called. But little by little, step by step, I do, and rest, then do some more, then rest some more until I feel the urge to stop the repeats and rest for a long while with a book or TV so long as I can keep my eyes open.
Do you know what? (No Mr U, I do not know.) I hallucinate.
I guess it’s all because of the necessary-evil by the name of morphine but I get the strangest feelings while I’m either thinking or resting watching tv or writing the blog (as I am now of course), but something I’m thinking of in my mind is so real, then I open my eyes and hey presto it’s gone. Boom. Just gone.
The problem is that it’s always when I’m tired and always while I am indulging in a story of some kind, reading or writing, but it’s a bit like there’s a person or place looking lovely and doing no harm to anyone, then I suddenly wake and open my eyes from a writer’s daze and nothing’s there - but I’m physically grasping for it or looking for it. Ha ha, it funny. Ha ha it’s sad.
It happens a lot and especially when I’m goofing about getting inside the mind of a character on a TV drama. Does it happen to you? Does it? It’s happening to me loads. It’s crazy.
There’s this drama we just watched, it got me all riled up and rather than talk to myself, which I certainly do not do, do I? Mr Unremarkable, do I? I laugh it if and hope no one noticed me grasping at invisible things. Ha ha.
The latest moment I’m body swapping was while recalling this drama…
I shall explain. The drama was on the Disney+ channel. It was a southern states procedural story centered around a few generations of a family of solicitors, where one guy in each generation was on the take, it is called Murdaugh — Death in the Family.
Cor blimey O’Reilly it got my goat up I can tell you.
But it made me think about creative writing and how it’s meant to make you feel. Maybe the morphine is helping me on a new and different level. Ha ha.
And even though I would never have watched this eight-part series myself, it was enthralling and I was taken into their lives where everyone was called ‘Bo’ (sounding like Bow) and nobody stood up against this fearless three-generation family, with Randolph the Third as head of the family, he’s ancient and feisty and wheeled out to win battles in or out of court but their mouths spouting abusively creative grooming creating unparalleled fear.
The storytelling was exceptional and I should learn from the blog and studying storylines, if I’m going weave a love story into a biography, as has been suggested by AW many times.
But I should get on telling the tale of earlier part of the day: the phone call and a push-along motorcycle.
The call was unexpected and led to me recalling the call listing later when I found out the call was 57 minutes long. My my, that’s a record, but it was my eldest, all the way from Cumbria, with lots to say obviously.
He was telling me how well the preparation for the Mighty Hike was going — raising funds for Macmillan of course.
It’s a gruelling 26 miles around and up and down one of the Lake District’s lakes: the Ullswater lake.
I think he’s now loving this mental and physical mountain to climb.
He found a shoe shop recently, within the Lakes somewhere — I can’t remember the town but it’s not Keswick — and bought some eye-wateringly expensive boots for hiking and was surprised at how comfy they are (and so they should be at that price). So the 22-mile trek tomorrow, along Hadrian’s Wall, is the last big test.
I wished him well but I’m frustrated that I can’t join him in any of these walks as they’re way out of my league, but that won’t stop me following him around the lake from a distance, online perhaps, I’ll find a way. I’ll be on his shoulder, as they say.
That said, the conversation moved onto how well I’m doing of late and I described a Dad who was unbelievably different in spirit: not the weak low-life I’ve been these last few weeks. That cheered him up and spurred me on to say that I was trying my best to get my act together starting with getting my old lightweight motorbike out of the shed, my little 125cc Bantam.
In fact, today was a big stepping stone and I have already achieved it, as you see from the photo today. It’s been a long winter and dusting off the bike and getting it into the clean air outside is a real boost for my continued recuperation.
We then chatted about my sister and brother visiting yesterday and the wedding in six weeks of my sister’s eldest which they will be attending. The time’s flowing and flying.
I then turned the family talk around to Nanny’s ashes. She been gone now nearly 4 years bless her.
I supposed that I was doing right by thinking for everyone, as per bloody usual, but later had cold shivers that I had done the wrong thing. It was about the importance of the interment, which I had made plans for. I’ll come back to this in a bit, but we can leave it there for now.
The call ended with a keen interest in who will be at the wedding and who will not and the new suits my brother and I have bought. We will look smart, for a change.
As I said earlier my Darling arrived in after a heavy first shift of the weekend tired but looking forward to relaxing beside me and the TV. But before the shower we talked over the plans I put in place for Mum’s ashes and the two events I think are best suited for my family.
Yes I know it sounds like I’m Mr Bossy-boots but someone has to do these things, and I’m always that man.
But after explaining to a tired wife the plans, she saw it differently to me and so my suggestion and thoughts about the interment being a little thing and, weeks or months later, have a graveside group hug and flower-drop when I can get everyone to come along easier: but she thought that’s not right.
“All the family should be there for the interment,” she said. “You’re excluding them and you shouldn’t be.”
Oh Christ, I thought. I’ve buggered the whole thing up and it’ll be hard to change now.
She gave up with me as we weren’t going to see this the same way. She went up for her shower.
While she was up there cleaning the day’s grime off her face I had a really bad feeling about the way I’ve been steering this whole two-events thing. I was only trying to do the things that would work in my view for the family and making good decisions on their behalf. I had the collywobbles.
Before she came back down smelling of roses I had written to both siblings to apologise for excluding the kids from the interment by accident etc etc.
The immediate replies were of amazing camaraderie and understanding and that the original plan is good and shall not exclude anyone so cheer the hell up and stick to the plan.
I told my Darling as she cuddled me, now in a brand new grey cuddly dressing gown that she’d just bought on the way home. She got all my pills too, love her.
Now I’m feeling guilty about how much I rely on her every day and all I can do is sit at home and cry and mess the place up after coming up with bad ideas for all the family.
Yes I’m the world’s worst over-reactor. But that’s me just now. I’m a bit fragile.
So we both agreed that the world was right and we should concentrate on us for now. So we watched that three generational TV family while they dealt with their horrible tailspin and we sat solidly behind the law enforcers chasing them. Then ate a TV dinner and watched the most cringy but “fun” show of the year.
The Eurovision Song Contest.
Dan, Dan, Derrrrrrr! 
I’ll leave it there I think. Happy days.
Night night
Take care
