anyresemblance

A dream drive

I dreamed last night of my dead sister and driving from my parent's house in Somerset to her flat in Bristol.  She lived in a converted rectory and in walking distance of the city centre.  I am sure it is much changed, but in my head, I was navigating the A37, the babycham sign at the factory at Shepton Mallet (where I got married in a registry office in a portacabin the car park next to Tescos), the Mendips in the distance, and thinking about what pasty to get for lunch.

It all felt so familiar, I knew where to turn and everything.  Even though the UK is so fucked up, I miss my home.

Redirection

Thank you for your kind condolences.

The restaurants are opening and, while I am still hesitant, I am looking forward to reading a paper menu at a table and ordering a glass of wine.   The corner restaurant next to my hairdressers has been under refurbishment for a year and finally opened this week with the end of our covid restrictions and a more connected life.  There is some hype as he is a respected chef but it has a cosy look.  I called to make a booking and the chef/patron answered so I shamelessly played the local card "oh, I've been walking past with my dog and watching your renovations with interest" "what kind of dog?" "the brown merle border collie" "oh him! when can I fit you in?"  Glad to know Charlie is such a calling card for so many occasions.

The kid has taken Charlie again as she is so lonely.  I have the fat marmalade cat to keep me company.

I've been listening to Jess Philips podcast, Yours Sincerely, at my sister's recommendation and enjoying the gentle reminder on putting pen to paper.

For I will consider my cat

I've said goodbye to several pets over the years.  My tabby cat from when I was a teenager, who became my mother's cat, and lived till I was past 30.  Then there was our beautiful beloved grey cat.  My daughter, who was his real owner, was in Cusco and I had to shout over a bad connection that he was not going to last until she got home from South America while she wept "I am in Machu Pichu, I can't bear it".  That was traumatic and my youngest and I wept buckets for a day after.  We wrapped him in her old quilt and buried him under the fig tree.

This morning was tough too.  She had a gentle last morning.  I fed her scraps of smoked salmon and brushed her fur while she lay in a pool of sunshine.  The vet was gentle and kind. She was given a sedative and lay down and then we stroked her until the drugs stopped her breathing.  Her eyes were still open and she was still warm but she stopped purring and we knew she was gone.  

Now, we recognise we are fragile.  I decided not to work today and I am just sitting quiet thinking about her tiny and enormous presence.

An upgrade

I got a new phone yesterday for the first time in a few years.  The screen is so clear and crisp it feels like when I first got an iPad a decade ago.  It remains to be seen if my photography improves any.

Yesterday, the shops were open as we ease out of lockdown but I was pleased that actually lots of them are still enforcing quite strict restrictions and some aren't even bothering to open yet.

I walked in the woods with Charlie and then saw our puppy friend, by accident.  They both raced around the courtyard together and had a lovely time wearing each other out.

I am reading the latest Liane Moriarty.  Just when I think I can't read another thing about North Shore Sydney well to do people, she writes another sentence that skewers the characters and highlights the tiresome charades so I am sticking with it.

In this week's decluttering, I have given away a Billy bookcase which was surplus to the library requirements.

The long goodbye

We've have had to make the decision to let our little girl cat go.  She is approaching 16 and the latest tests show her kidneys are now failing.  We'll have one last weekend with her and then the vet will help her on her way.  She has been the most unassuming of cats with a quiet personality but I will miss her very much.

Therapy Dog

I remember a while ago my daughter had a friend whose sister had moved to Western Australia with her husband.  The marriage collapsed and she was so distraught her parents shipped the family dog over to keep her company and help her recover.  

I've been doing the same with lending out Charlie as my daughter is so sad at the approaching end of life of our old cat.  She just needs someone to talk to and he has been perfect company for her.  She took him to work and found the crustiest of her co workers speaking baby talk to him in the meeting room.

Ancillary health

Time was when I probably didn't believe much in the raft of ancillary health providers like osteopaths and podiatrists and thought physios were there for when you needed to recover from a major health operation.  More fool me as I get older and understand that GPs are really generalists and, if you have the privilege to be  able to pay for it, there is a lot to be gained from people who are specialists in one field.

All of this leads to me visiting a physiotherapist this morning who looked at my x rays and scans and told me what was really going on (not a baker's cyst) and tested me out and gave me some super helpful exercises.  He was less than 30 I am sure, but had an excellent manner of testing I understood information and letting me know how to follow up if I had forgotten anything.  I found him so good and reassuring and while it may be 3-4 months, I left feeling my symptoms could be abated and strength restored and any surgery was a long way in my future.

Charlie has gone to spent the day in S's office.  He has occasioned much baby talk from her otherwise serious work colleagues so I think he is a hit.

The poor old cat is not doing so well and pretty sure we are into weeks if not days before we have to make the decision.  Right now she is back with me, and hiding in the bottom of the wardrobe where I have put a heat pack.  She's still eating and drinking so it is not the very end yet:(

This charming man

Haters gonna hate.  

1984.  I am driving down Seven Sisters Road towards Finsbury Park (whose car am I in and why am I driving?) when I hear This Charming Man come on the radio for the first time.  I rushed out and bought the single.

In 2011 or thereabouts I am in a karaoke bar in Sao Paolo and I am singing Never Gonna Give You Up and people come up and danced to my rendition.

Now Rick Astley is performing Smiths covers with the Blossoms and I LOVE it.  

An unfortunate event

I mislaid my ear pods out of their case and spent 5 days looking for them to no avail.  Yesterday, when I was doing laundry, I saw them stuck in the rubber seal around the washing machine door.  They had been through at least 5 washes and have not survived the ordeal.  Which is super annoying as they are so spendy.  However, I am sucking it up as I spent so long last year trying to get wireless earphones that did not drive me fucking insane with itchy silicon or stupid bits that did not fit my ear canals.

I am also considering up-ing my phone game and going all out on the latest phone.  My camera is so rubbish on this phone and more to the point, the screen is so small and I reckon the phone route is cheaper than a new set of prescription lenses.

Something for nothing

I've been gifting things via a Buy Nothing Facebook group.  A cardboard cat scratcher in the shape of a plane to a local cat shelter, the dog ramp which was too slippy and too steep for Charlie to a man who was looking for one for his two beagles, an unused 2021 bullet journal to a mum who was trying to help her 12 year old do better forward planning.  I think I enjoy this more than actual financial transactions and it is always so lightening to have something leave the house.  I also gave a small tv to a friend of my daughter's who is setting up house.  I told her to pay me in cake so she brought round some delicious pastries.

I spoke to my friend this morning who was describing her decluttering efforts and said she had letters I had written her in the eighties.  I was filled with a momentary anxiety that she might add them to her pile but I think I will get them eventually.  I was telling my daughter that she might like to read them.  She said, ok, but as long as you don't expect me to keep them in perpetuity.  Which is fair enough as I guess each generation gets to decide what is worth holding on to.

It has been warm and oppressive all day and the threatened rain has not yet materialised.  S and I watched two more episodes of Only Murders in the Building one of which was so delightful and funny that I am still smiling.  We ate meatballs cooked in Marcella Hazan miracle tomato sauce with toasted sourdough.  Quite delicious but very filling so I am planning on some fruit for dinner.