Are the voices in my head too loud for you?

Bitter?

I am feeling distinctlky bitter and twisted and wondering if I have gone completely and utterly mad.  I am not mourning, nor am I feeling numb with shock at the passing of a popstar.  I feel desperately sorry for his children and wider family - but rather disgusted that this story is leading on every channel when there are so many more pressing events which should be capturing the hearts and challenging our thinking in the world just now - Iraq, Parkistan etc...  Of course I can see Michael Jackson was very gifted at what he did on stage - but his life was darker than his energised stage presence - and we seem to have become very forgiving and developed forgetful natures as far as celebrities in general are concerned.

 

I know I need to get a life but I also watched the whole of Jeremy Kyle's interview with Jade Goody's mother this morning on ITV1.  Again, it felt touchingly comical and strangely unsettling that so much energy and time was being given on TV to deciphering the life story of a woman who by her own admission had been a serious drug addict and an absent parent.  Why are we interested?  Why was I?  Since when has voyeurism really helped me think.  Shame on me.

 

S came over this afternoon.  I had forgotten he was coming and was woken by another knock on my bedroom door!  At least friends now know to simply wade through the dogs and head for the bedroom if they don't get an answer at the door!!!  The drugs are still knocking me unconscious and my back is still playing up.  Grrrrrhhhh.

 

Brilliant to see S and the time seemed to fly.  I was sad he had to go.  We covered our usual checklist; the world was duly put to rights and then spent a lot of time enjoying the dogs, especially the Newfoundlands.  He helps me realise just how fast young Tabatha is growing.  He is such a help in getting my head sorted - I don't know what I would do without him.  He has a fantastic capacity to reframe into the positive and give really practical advice.  He is also almost as mad about dogs as I am - which is wonderful in a world of one pet person household dog lovers and he doesn't mind getting mud on his white shirt - a true friend and dog lover!!!

 

I ordered a new art book on line the other day as my current one is nearly full - and some ink.  I now know that Tramildol affects my brain really significantly.  I somehow managed to acquire a huge book - I wanted A4 and two bottle of purple, brown and green ink when I was trying to order one of each.  I won't need to buy ink for another ten years I'd guess.

 

 

The weather continues to be hot - but with a refreshing breeze off the sea.  The grass and trees look as though they are now gasping for a drink.  There is a chance we might enjoy a refreshing thunderstorm.  I would love to feel some heavy drops of summer rain - add another layer of mud to the kitchen!

Caught in Charge of Chaos

What a day - it has been 24C in Inverness.  We just aren't used to it!!!

 

My support worker came this morning despite my best efforts via my partner to put her off!  My partner and M were in cahoots and I am so very grateful that they were.  (House looks like a bomb has hit it!  I am walking about like a rag doll and still in pain;  largely unwashed and desperate for a hair wash).  She came anyway - the mark of a true friend.  I was fast asleep in bed when I was woken by her knock on our bedroom door.  I thought it wwas a very polite burglar at first!  She bore gifts - milk, rolls and strawberries.  She is so very accepting.

 

I wonder why I get so het up about appearances after five minutes in M's company - she reminds me so gently that it is me she has come to see not grade the house on cleanliness.

Hot

The heat is incredible and has left us all lying in whichever place we find coolest.  I get in a real pickle when it is this hot.  My mum had a skin condition which meant it was impossible for her to sweat I seem to have inherited it partially and so my body feels as though internal combustion is taking place!  I just can't get cool let alone comfortable.

 

My back has finally completely gone.  I decided to try what they say on all the TV programmes about getting fit - and work on through my pain barrier.  I managed to get about a third of the kitchen cleaned before I was in considerable pain.  The carrying on was the mistake;  I can hardly move now.  I look like an old lady moving around clutching at furniture, sitting down at every opportunity!  The medication is great but I then lose the day asleep!  I am fed up with looking at all the things I can't physically do - it's giving me the pip.  I know my back will get better - but for now it is literally a pain.

 

The Firth is surprisingly clear of waterfowl, I guess they are all snoozing. 

 

I've started the sketches for the magician compositions.  I will really enjpy doing these.

 

Tabatha - the 12 week puppy has just discovered that if you put both feet on the rim of the water bowl you can make a big puddle which is cool to lie in.  Now why didn't I think of that?

Work Avoidance

Worked on novel this morning but gave up after an hour and a half.  I was stuck - and feeling a little fed up that the flow wasn't as good as usual.  It's always a bad sign when I resort to cleaning - I did.

 

The weather has been idyllic - glorious sunshine, a gentle breeze and a silvery blue sea.

 

The dogs have felt the heat.  Jacob (the Newfie Rescue) should really be named Kamikazee.  The last couple of meal times he has taken to leaping on a growlling Humphrey.  Interestingly Humph looks rather surprised and although he makes a lot of noise he hasn't reciprocated - yet.

 

With my partner down in Somerset I caught myself trawlling through houses again in his home area.  I am so thrilled when I hear him so full of energy and clearly enjoying himself immensely I can't help but wonder if we wouldn't be wise to reconsider Somerset.  He is cogitating on this.  I love it here, but I love England too.

 

 

Blogger Outed

A most glourious day - humid and sunny.  As I look out over the Firth there is low cloud over the Black Isle which looks as though it is touching the water in places.  The ducks have set up a particularly load cocophony - and I have seen our resident buzzard.  I can feel a storm brewing.

 

Incredibly quiet and gentle day - it's amazing how different the place is when my partner is away.  I miss him - but I also enjoy the space.  I tend to be rather bee-like in terms of thinking.  I like to settle on a few ideas and explore them in a lot of depth - my partner is a butterfly - and sometimes when he's around I feel I have to come up from wherever I'm engrossed to focus on what he's saying.  It's really nice not having to for a wee while.

 

I've been thinking about this whisltle blowing blogger in the Police who has now been outed and given a warning by his employer.  I listened with interest to the woman from the Orwellian Society being interviewed.  Apparently they have recently given him an award.  Initially I thought it was another strike for free-thinking and commonsense justice - but on reflection I am glad he was outed.  The reflections he was making were not just personal opinions, he was citing actual incidents that we occuring in his daily work which those involved with might have reasonably considered to be confidential - or at least out of the public domain until they went to court or appeared in the paper.  I think I would have less of an issue if he had confined himself to a commentary on such cases as he was involved in which were in the public domain.  Instead he shared - at best - sensitive information which - now we all know his name and ploce force can be identified presumably by those who have a mind to.  Whatver your views of the police force - and I am not their greatest fan - it seems to me that if they are paying your salary you have a certain obligation to work in a professional and appropriate way.  I've just had a horrible thought - it wouldn't surprise me if the police don't have a code of practice about such things.

 

 

B ertie Returns

No sooner had the flyers been posted through neighbours doors than the phone rang and neighbour M informed us that Bertie had been alive and well a few hours earlier in her garden enjoying her company.  Huge sigh of relief all round - and lo and behold, the Great One deigned to look in at home later in the evening and slept all night on our bed.  We are a little out of practice sleeping through the deep throb of a contented cat's purr - still we all slept.

 

My partner has left for Somerset pulling Pandora, our box trailer behind him.  He is stopping off en route to off load some paintings and then staying with his brother.  I am working and dog and cat sitting.  The dogs have been sticking to me like glue since his departure.  I walk down the hall; they do.  I go to the loo - there's a kerfuffle while they all step back and sit on each other as I close the door.  Tabatha is still small enough to hide out under all the other dogs legs and then run into the cloakroom as the door shuts.  She clearly thinks this is a great wheeze and is very proud of herself.  As she is growing her features are coming and she has such a soft and kindly face with a real sparkle in her eyes.  She can already stop five male dogs charging along the hall just by sitting down and glaring at them.  She's smashing.

Found!

My brother has now been found. Yipppeee. He is absolutely fine. Phew.

Missing

Met a chap from Windsor Chapel today. He and his partner have moved up to the Highlands. He is one of the facilitators for the ten day convocation I'm attending in October. It was good to talk Church again, but it still feels a rather abstract concept.

 

Much clearer throughline coming together with the novel and I am beginning to develop the detail for the magician series of paintings. I am wondering if my diary will allow a trip down to Southport or whether I will have to prevail on a magician to take the pieces and see if they have buyers. It would be easier to take them of course. We'll see. Busy few weeks a head with the charity scena to finish; the novel to get to basting point and the outlines atleast for the paintings well underway. It feels brilliant to be busy.

 

Not so good is that Bertie, our dyspraxic tabby, is still missing. He's never been away this long. It's a horrible, empty, unresolved feeling.  My partner will take a missing poster round later.  He may have set up home in a neighbouring village or be stuck in an outbuilding.  He may have fallen foul of a badger or a fox.  I do hope not, but I can see that he has lead quite a charmed existence here - rabbits on continuous take out and plenty of holes to investigate and trees to climb.  I hope we do see him again - he is such a joyous wee beastie.

 

Disappearing off the face of the earth seems to be a theme just now.  I lost God some months ago - and haven't found her again - sadly.  This last week I have rather more literally and worryingly, lost my brother.  I didn't worry too much when I didn't hear from him on my birthday - he can be a little absentminded about birthdays - it's a family trait - but I became more concerned when I couldn't get hold of him on his birthday.  What's more I had some surprising news which indicated that all was not well.  I've waited and even tried to e mail him at work.  Nothing.  In a strange way I can get to his apparent need to claim some space and time.  I just hope he's OK.  It's always tempting to think that because I have mental health concerns maybe he has too.  I hope it's just that he is on a creative binge and is developing a new role-playing game or is doing something exciting and spontaneous.  The trouble is this is all a little out of character - well the latter is - the former is par of the course.

 

My brother and I have become closer since our mother's death, but we weren't in regular contact.  We've both got a huge amount to deal with regarding our early lives and our parental relationships as well as the far from healthy relationship we had with each other - but we were beginning to listen to each other as adults - and we were enjoying the exploration.

 

I do hope he's OK.

Catching Up

Sorry not to have blogged for a wee while. I have been flat on my back with back pain following a consultation with an orthopedic surgeon. To say he touched the nerve centre of the problem would be a significant understatement.

 

One advantage about lying in bed and being bored to tears is that I have had plenty of time to think. Idea for next novel has firmed up; a couple of paintings are taking shape - and dog grooming on a kingsize bed whilst watching "The Dog Whisperer" has proved a doddle! I am painting some pieces for a magician's convention next.

 

I have been taking a drug called Tramodol which seems to surpress the pain in the spinal column. It's like an epidural - but my God it knocks you out. One capsule and I am out for the count. It has been a frustrating time in terms of putting finger to keyboard. I am irritated that this set back which has well and truly gotten in the way and I have lost some of my momentum.

 

It doesn't seem possible that the fall I had two years ago could have caused such lasting and deep trauma but it has.  The surgeon I saw immediately recognised the Girdlestone part of my surname - one of my partner's ancestors was a very famous orthopedic surgeon.  It was quite amusing to receive extra kudos because I was related.  By the end of the consultation - although physically winded, I was sure he would make a fair report to my solicitor about the long term implications of my fall injuries.

 

We have changed puppy Cleo's name yet again and she is now Tabatha.  She looks like a Tabatha and sounds like a Tabatha.  She is growing into the most beautiful dog.

 

Despite the back, I managed to meet with my support worker M on Thursday and she was like a breath of fresh air.  She is so positive and encouraging - and nothing is too much trouble.  We talked about my novel and she has high hopes we will make it onto whatever will replace "Richard and Judy"!!!  Her confidence is infectous.  After our catch-up we went to look at rabbits at Pets at Home.  I would very much like to replace Clover and Nutmeg with a boy and a girl this time.  There were a couple of beautiful ones there but when we went back for a futher inspection later in the day we decided they weren't quite right.  There will be others.

I've started So I'll Finish

What is that lovely saying about making sure you treat each new day as the first day of the rest of your life - or indeed the only day? I was feeling as nervous as hell as I settled at my temporary writing desk which has been set up in 'the snug', a space we would usually use for meditation or simply to contemplate the beauty of our surroundings. I am abandoning working in The Sanctuary for this week so that I can be around in the house for the dogs as my partner is going away. 

 

I feel like I am my own boss once again - and it is a very energising feeling. Above all else I think my primary task must be to maintain a consistent self-belief. I am a professional writer. I don't have to hide. I am preparing a novel for publication. I am this. This is me. I feel so very good. I need to maintain a positive outlook over what I achieve. I have drawn up a timetable and I am setting myself a minimum and maximum task list for each day this week. My old patterns of beating myself up at every possible opportunity are entirely counter-productive and self abusive.

 

I wondered initially whether I needed to become a good parent to my child the writer, but that dynamic feels hopelessly out of kilter somehow.  The whole validation and revelation of recent days has been that my adult self has been affirmed in her talentedness and her fortune told by experienced authors much further along the way.

 

My inner 'boss' must therefore become my most positive self; no undermining; no short-changing on the praise; gentle; honest; commonsensical; light; providing a safe but sstimulating space in which to explore.  Funny it all sounds so familiar - it is exactly what we provided so beautifully for others over recent years in The Sanctuary.