Posy

Feeder wars

Last week, I ring Anth at work and rather excitedly exclaimed.

"Darling, guess what? I've had a Chiffchaff in the garden!!"

Long pause...."Mmm, am I thinking you have had another chaffing experience, er..rather like London..?"

"No, no. It's a bird. I looked it up in my book and it was right by the window hopping around in our dead plants."

Audible sigh of relief on the end of the phone.

After years of having no birds in our garden apart from magpies and seagulls, last year I tried my very hardest to encourage some. When I say encourage, read - doing everything, even BEGGING! I started to get a few sparrows then suddenly there was nothing.Posts here, here, here and here which chart my bird obsession. All winter there have been no sightings of anything. My lovely colleague at school who is an expert on birds and knows the entire 'Observer Book Of Birds' did her best to reassure me with various reasons as to why they wouldn't venture out to visit me. I have tried very hard not to take it personally but have been known to groan rather loudly when I see birds just fly on by without stopping and always have half an ear listening out for any chirping in the trees at the end of our garden. I won't even go into the amount of mouldy, untouched bird food I have had to throw away. No, best if Anth doesn't know..!

 But lately something unusual has happened. Since January I have seen blue tits, sparrows, 2 pairs of blackbirds, a redwing as well as the chiffchaff. Yes, all in our garden! I have been beside myself with excitement, spending time just willing them to stay and feed some more but not being well enough to go and restock the feeders with fresh food. (That isn't what Anth calls a priority when he is running the house and looking after me!) But Saturday was a good day for me and I felt able to go out and refill. I then went into the house to watch.
But hang on...where were the blue tits going as they flew over the neighbours gardens...I went upstairs to look out of the window to get a better view...

SHOCK..HORROR..

Hanging on a garage wall four gardens away was a feeder - a much bigger feeder than mine!!

Mmmm.... I think I might have to think tactically here. I went downstairs.

"Anty, are you going anywhere near a shop that sells bird feeders by any chance....???"

Moving on

 Hello, hello..here I am back again - very wobbly but still smiling...well most of the time!
Do you like my little pot of primroses?

 I found it at Totnes Market on Saturday and I hinted to Anth that it would make the perfect Valentine's love gift. Yes really, I actually went to Totnes, finally, for the first time this year. And how did I find myself at Totnes on Saturday? Well, it was sheer frustration and determination. Last Thursday I was lying in bed (after thinking that perhaps I may feel better quicker if I stop sitting on the sofa and go back to lying in bed during the day. It wasn't working.) Anth rang me during the day and found me crying. I just thought I've had enough of waiting to wake up each morning and feel like my old self -  even though I'm not my old self any more.  I've got to build my strength up a little each day. So that is what I'm trying to do. I spent half an hour in Totnes on Saturday  saw some dear friends for a couple of hours on Monday and Tuesday (still in my pj's for one visit!) and today I even went to the hairdresser and managed to walk to the charity shop down the hill. I'm shattered now but I just can't sit on the sidelines of life any more. It's a bit scary as I still feel so weak but I'm taking it slowly.

And I've picked up my crochet hook again.

 Work on my blanket has resumed. I was given some old linens by a very kind colleague on Friday and this wonderful embroidered apron was included.

I just love it and use it to keep my circles in. Tomorrow I'm hoping to do some sewing...sewing!!
I'm moving onwards, slowly but surely, taking one day at a time..and I'm sure I'll get there.

LOVE

 Last week I discovered a new song - well new to me. They played it on Radio Devon during the morning and as I was lying in bed (where else would I be these days..I'm either on the sofa or in our bed!) my ears pricked up and I stopped what I was doing (which was actually nothing..) and turned the volume up. It is a simple love song. Uncomplicated; a little different; truthful; meaningful; wise and honest. In fact just like my sweet love, Anty. 

My Dearest Lovely Man,

Happy Valentine's Day!

I thought of you when I heard this song.

I love you

Chasing Chris Martin

 Yesterday was a bad day. One of the worst I've had in the last few weeks if I'm honest. My aches had returned and so did the tears. 

"I'm feeling no better, there must be something seriously wrong with me, how can this be taking so long..." I wailed to the family yesterday evening. "If Chris Martin came into our garden I could not chase after him and he would get away..."
More tears.

This morning I reflected on my conversation and chuckled to myself. I had to make the family realise just how yucky I was feeling and the only thing I could measure my weakness on was if Chris Martin was in our garden I would be unable to get to him. Anth thought I would somehow conjure up the energy to get to him but I tearfully told him that I couldn't and he would get away. Forever.

"Mmm, maybe that's a good thing," said Lucy.

It was a strange day yesterday. Alice started a week of work experience at my school (where I work). She was in my class and came back with shining eyes and wide smiles and wonderful stories of the children. My children. My favourite was how she and the teacher noticed a wet patch on the carpet after the children had got up and they had to discreetly look at 30 bottoms as they filed out of the classroom to see if there was a matching wet patch on someone's uniform. I miss that.
Today, I'm not so tearful. I feel stupid and selfish when I cry but I just wish my arms and legs would go back to normal. Normal, but a little skinnier would be fine by me and strong enough to sprint after Chris if he ever wandered into our garden by mistake. Any time soon will do. Please.

  I'm waiting..

stormy and clear

Hello there friends,

Just a little update on the progress in the Goble household - well I would probably argue that there is hardly any progress at all! My visit to the Doctor on Friday was good. My liver function is almost back to normal and my iron levels had gone up, albeit, not as much as before, but up. The Dr mentioned that she thought that I have been bleeding through my stomach for quite some time unbeknown to me.
On Saturday I had begged Anth to take me to a couple of charity shops as it has been weeks since I did anything 'normal' and I thought it might brighten me a little. Oh my. It wasn't until I was actually out in my old hunting ground that I realised just how weak I really was. It was like wading through treacle. It was a lovely sunny day and it felt so good to be out. We didn't stay long but just long enough for me to find the above sugar bowl that I now store my hooks in.

I keep looking at it and it makes me happy. I need to feel happy at the moment as I go up and down like a yo-yo. One minute stormy, the next clear. Just like the White Balloons song.

 

I so love my American coloured metal crochet hooks - I wish they were available in the UK which just do grey. Yes grey! As if we don't have enough greyness in life.
I have taken enormous comfort and pleasure reading your comments and emails over these last few weeks. I may be at home alone most of the day but I feel privileged to have such connections to some amazing friends. I can call you friends, can't I? Good.

S.L.O.W.

AAAAAHHHHHH.......!!! I'm feeling so low today. I'm trying my very best to be positive and patient but if truth be told I could just burst into tears right this very minute. Maybe it's not a good idea to blog when one is feeling sorry for themselves. But, gee whiz (one of my most favourite sayings you may have noticed!) I seem to be feeling worse this week than I did last week. When is this ever going to end???
I hate to complain when I know things could be so much worse in so many ways but I feel so helpless. I have not the inclination to do anything - even read now. I think to myself, oh I will sit downstairs, buggie in (another of my favourite sayings that means cozy in) light a fire watch TV/listen to my beloved radio/try and crochet/revel in this enforced rest..but it doesn't work. Nothing appeals.
The house is neglected, the rubbish bin needs emptying and Anth has walked mud all through the house which I can't face even trying to hoover up.

DEEP BREATH....On a more positive note I have had a lovely bunch of flowers from school, in their own water no less (the really posh hand tied ones that have cellophane round the stems with water in. I've never had flowers with their own water before!) and the postman sometimes brings me get well wishes sent from sweet thoughtful ladies. I so appreciate that. Goodness, I will be in danger of tearing up again! 
I just love the bar of chocolate in the picture. Thank you Kathy. I couldn't dream of eating it when it states such an important mantra. I keep it close by to remind me. I had another blood test today and I see the doctor on Friday. I thought I was going to be OK to go back to school next week (oh I miss my babies) but I beginning to doubt I can and that doesn't make me feel good. 
Anyway, enough of my whinging. I'll make a cup of tea that should cheer me and I might even put some Coldplay on. A touch of Chris always makes a difference.... thank you for being a shoulder xxxx

Mothering

My heart is full today - so full that my thoughts are just a mass of wires trying to connect so that I may express these oh-so- deep feelings. It started the moment I woke up. Now usually mornings are not my forte. I'm a night owl. It takes me a long time to surface - but today I was wide awake instantly. Tom was leaving very early to go back to University and I lay there fretting. Did he have everything, was he alright? Oh,the mother-angst I just so, so hate about being a mother. You see I'm a champion worrier at the best of times but oh the stress of child independence in some occasions are a killer.
It was a relief when Anth finally drove him to the station. I went back to bed and thought about my mothering journey. Yesterday was Grandma's funeral. She was a wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. What roles to have been granted in life and she played them well. So well.
 
Am I the mother I thought I would be? In some ways no. Do I think I am a good mother? My first thoughts are negative, but that maybe because I hold the position of being a good mother so high. Maybe unrealistic or maybe just not me.  I feel I'm sometimes too selfish but that could be that my children are teenagers and don't require so much of my time. Do I show them enough love? Am I too critical, too hard to please? Do I listen enough to their hopes and fears? God I hope so.
It is a fine balance during these teenage years.
I then picked up my trusty iphone to do some blog surfing. I happened by chance, somehow, going from blog to blog like you do, to stumble upon this. So perfect.

It is written by Katherine Center and these are her words written for the video...

WHAT I WOULD TELL HER:  (If I knew what to say.)

You are a miracle.

And I have to love you this fiercely:  So that you can feel it even after you leave for school, or even while you are asleep, or even after your childhood becomes a memory.

You’ll forget all this when you grow up.  But it’s okay.

Being a mother means having your heart broken.

And it means loving and losing and falling apart and coming back together.

And it’s the best there is.  And also, sometimes, the worst.

Sometimes you won’t have anyone to talk to.

Sometimes you’ll wonder if you’ve forgotten who you are.

But you must remember this:  What you’re doing matters.

And you have to be brave with your life so that others can be brave with theirs.

The truth is, being a woman is a gift.  Tenderness is a gift.  Intimacy is a gift.  And nurturing the good in this world is a nothing short of a privilege.

That’s why I have to love you this way.  So I can give what I have to you.  So that you can carry it in your body and pass it on.

I have watched you sleep.  I’ve kissed you a million times.  And I know something that you don’t, yet:

You are writing the story of your only life every single minute of every day.

And my greatest hope for you, sweet child, is that I can teach you how to write a good one.

*************************************

I then went on to discover this book 'Because I love Her' by Andrea Richesin  and have ordered it as a little get-better-soon treat for myself, though I think it won't help my over-emotional state right now! But hey, that is one thing my children can count on...their mother reading heart-rending non-fiction books that have her quietly sobbing into a vintage hankie!
I suppose it's all about being the best mother one can be in the circumstances you find yourself in. To build up their confidence so that they may fly strong and high and that they won't hopefully remember that I never did baking with them and dragged them around charity shops with the tag of 'treasure hunting'..
My wish is that when it is my funeral and if I have been privileged enough to have the same roles as Grandma; that my children and my children's children will know quite simply, whatever my failings, how deeply they had been loved.