Are the voices in my head too loud for you?

Uncomfortable Grief

We had, what I suppose would be described on any British Television Soap, as an almighty family bust up yesterday with one of 'The Brood'.  I think it was one of the most difficult days of my life (and even more so for my partner) and I would do anything to turn the clock back and start again to try and achieve a clearer understanding of what we were each actually trying to say.  But, that isn't real and what has been said has been said.

 

Nothing that we shared we would take back or change per se.  I think we were very surprised by the response our comment evoked.  But then maybe that is always the fatal flaw in family life - we assume we know and understand - and we blatantly don't - any of us.

 

At the moment the whole situation feels unresolvable and sore, very reminiscent of a bereavement - which essentially it is.  I've felt the loss of the other person in my life acutely today; missing a long discussion on Skype; and trying to get on with some of the things we promised to do for the person - even though at the moment it feels as though the person will never see what we have done or want to reconsider - even communicating with us again.

 

It all feels tragic and unnecessary, but maybe we cannot see the bigger picture yet - and it will one day prove to be something that needed to happen - a sort of realisation of what we can all be to each other in reality.  We remain desperately concerned for the person who is hurting, but calm and assured that issues we had to raise were appropriate and necessary.  None of us likes boundaries and limitations which are not of our own making in relationships - but just sometimes they have to be there to keep everyone sane and protect the most vulnerable.  Clearly at this minute, someone we love very much is now feeling very damaged and hurt by our expression of needs - and that does cut us up inevitably.

 

I caught myself look at Christmas presents we had bought this afternoon - and thinking these aren't going to be used; went on to Skype to see if we could make ammends - and realised we have no further access; and sent e-mails with no reply - yes there has been an emotional death in the family.  Let's hope it is a little death of everyday living and we will soon claim new life.

 

Mother's Pride

I am a very proud mum just now.  Our youngest is maturing and growing in ways we could only have dreamed about a year or so ago.  While many of my contempories are full of negativity about their adolescents and longing for them to reach adulthood, our own youngster seems to have chosen this time to 'come home' emotionally.  Yes, he has all the usual stuff of adolescence - but - he is emotionally present and we are enjoying being a family.  Can't say more - but it is a love story.

 

I've had some real problems with medication I have to say.  One minute I am high as I kite and the next I resemble an enormous caterpillar cocooned in my duvet on the sofa, not overly hopeful of any kind of future metamorphosis.  I had a seriously bad day on Friday - I just couldn't raise any enthusiasm for anything.  I was badly down.  My super hero CPN (Community Psychiatric Nurse) arrived and gave me what can be politely described as a sympathetic, but well aimed kick up the back side.  It was what I needed - but tough to hear.  Yesterday was medication free and I was dancing on clouds.  More money spent on line (sure sign of minor relapse); full of ideas; acting on some and trying to keep the lid on the rest - exhausting - but my head flew on. 

 

I spent the day copying my parents old 78 records into MP3 files.  It was a real trip down memory lane.  I found it hugely difficult to stop because I couldn't relax mentally.  In the end I settled to sorting out Christmas cards - unbelievable for me - who is usually a last minute person.  Once I was fed up with that I tried TV - but could I settle - nope!

 

In the end I took some medication and when I still felt as high as anything - took some more - that did it - but I slept until 1pm today.  I can't believe there isn't an inbetween state?  On medication I have a very fuzzy head and feel like Dylan in "Magic Roundabout".  My partner describes this wonderfully as being carefully packed with cotton wool to protect something very precious.  I wish!  Without the antipsychotic I am working on all cylinders but can't remember where the relax switch is.  I much prefer the me off medication - but feel genuinely knackered having the hypo me around for more than a few days at a time.  I am sure my CPN will come up with something.  For my part, I am now wondering if I need some medication, some of the time - and promise myself not to make any decisions on those days - or may be it should be the other days!!!

 

I am determined to crack this.

 

 

 

 

Past Times

Odd moments spent sorting through family archives.  There is nothing like a good delve - and I never cease to be amazed by the richness of my inheritance.  Seeing the primary sources behind the stories I was told growing up have been touching.  Researching others and realising they were largely apocryhal has been intriguing! 

I guess to some degree seeing history repeat itself is fascinating.  Personality traits replaying across generations; careers choices; the hopes and fears expressed in letters home.  Much to ponder and celebrate.

I've heard it said that we do not grow up entirely until both our parents are dead - and now - almost a year after my mum's death - I can't help but agree.  There is something powerful about exploring the past through my own filters and interpretative skills rather than through my parents. Maybe it is also something about getting to the tipping point in my own life when I have, in all likelihood, less life ahead than I have lived before.  The past is now rich and dense with experience.  The future is tempered by the past - but also charmingly enticing.  The present invites me to put both together and reflect from the perspective of being me.

Time to turn a page and start a new chapter.

Dido and The Whale

The evening before last, our eldest dog, a Golden Retriever died.  It was all very sudden.  She became ill the same morning and was rushed to the vet.  Some hours later it was clear that she was bleeding internally.  The sense was that a tumour - previously undetected - had probably burst.  We were able to say goodbye and acknowledge the look in her eye - that enough was enough.

Dido has left a huge gap in our family life.  She joined our fledgling family not long after we married and she was the only dog remaining who dated back before we began fostering.  I can remember her welcoming our adopted son - and continually licking his head if he came within reach!  Her surrogate puppy.

Dido was a fine retriever - much admired for her looks - with a gentle temperament and a keeness to please.  Her favourite game was to fetch objects.  In her younger days she knew several nouns and could "fetch the pen" or the remote on command.  She has left a huge whole in our lives.

On the day Dido died there was great drama on the shore at Alturlie Point as a sperm whale beached.  We watched its death throes as did many bystanders.  The sperm whale was forty and forty-five feet long.  We have sinced discovered from our vet and the coastguard that he was almost certainly gravely ill when he beached.  The coastguard felt he was under-size for his age and had probably been ill for some time.

I was very touched to see that the local police put up a road block and police tape so that onlookers walked the last part to the point and did not go too close to the whale.  On the outgoing tide his position shifted a little to the end of the track to our house.  People stood; mostly speaking in subdued voices or in silence.  Some were crying.  It was a very powerfully evocative sight.  Such a noble creature entering shallow water to die.  Apparently his mate had remained with him for as long as possible and then finally swam away.  Very moving indeed.  Two noble spirits gone.

Look Back

I have been thinking alot about the fact that no matter how much we live in the present moment, we are still, to some extent, encompassed by the past.  I think the train of thought was triggered by an afternoon at the weekend scanning documents and old photographs.  Just a glimpse at some interior photos of the house I grew up in took me straight back there.  I was intrigued that I dream about this house a great deal but it is always as it was when I was a child.  Most of the photos I was looking at during the weekend were taken in the late 1970s and early 80s.  I had completely forgotten how the house had changed, particularly after my father's death and before the move to Cambridge.

I have been recognising how arbitary memory appears.  Digging deeper, the selectiveness of memory seems very poignant.  I had missed out the adult memories of the property and selected the earlier 'interpretation' of where and how we lived.  I often find I dream about times which did not feel comfortable and safe for me.  I suspect my subconscious is doing an excellent job in managing early trauma and helping me to heal.

I am fascinated by tbe memories we consciously select too.  The parts of our story we dwell on as well as those we shove to the back of our minds.  What is the image of myself I am creating with such a strong editorial through line?  Which parts am I ignoring or failing to be-friend?

I am very aware I have sublimated a great deal to do with my theatre-based past.  It is painful to recall that this was for two reasons.  Firstly, the Church invited me to choose between vocation or theatre.  I chose a vocation to serve the Church but grieved for many years as a consequence.  Shutting out my creative instincts seemed the most effective way of stultifying the pain.  Secondly, every time it became known I had some sort of theatrical background I seemed to be invited to 'do' sketches etc... for the church.  I had been brought up in the world of professional theatre.  At the time I found it difficult to make the cross over to amateur expectations.  Now I feel differently about the creative process - but at the time I couldn't be quite as flexible or forgiving in my heart of the well-meaning soul who didn't bother to learn their lines or thought it a huge laugh - and so I thought it best to avoid Christian Drama rather than see it as a creative opportunity.

Funny how looking back offers a different reading of events.  Now I can't imagine why I needed to be so precious!

Puddles

House work dominated today.  Our bedroom has been reclaimed from the ministrations of a puppy.  He has taken his role seriously and thinks it is a great wheeze to steal and shred toilet rolls.  This morning Humph stopped us both in our domestic busy-ness as we looked out the bedroom window to see him splashing around in a large rigid dog bed we have put outside in the garden for afternoon doggie snoozes.  At least we now know he loves water!  There was an impressive array of wet patches on the carpet.  I am not sure how many were rain water.  We are still working on house training - he is great except when he is excited or preoccupied.  He is only 3 months so that is most of the time!  According to Puppies for Dummies time is on his side.

Humph is a very independent young soul.  Most of the afternoon he slept on the decking looking resplendent in the afternoon sunshine.  I had to smile as the other dogs daintily stepped over him to get in and out of the garden - even the cat!

After seeing Humph thoroughly wet today and glistening I think one of his middle names should be Marley - his dredlocks were stunning.

Duvet 1 Paper 0

I suppose I could argue that today has been a thinking day, but if I am honest I would have to concede that it has been contemplation in the manner of Pooh rather than Satre.  Don't laugh, but I can usually think my best thoughts in bed and then transfer them to paper when I emerge from my cocoon.  Honest!  I can think, order and then get up, shower and start writing.  Something went wrong this morning between waking up and starting to think.  (I blame Fi Glover on Radio Four).  I certainly began to think through the paper I need to write - but I then woke up again and it was 12.30pm!

Now at this point any sensible, motivated academic or creative artist would apologise to the muses - quickly shower and slide into her desk chair as though nothing had happened.  (Three hours could be caught up by working after Dr. Who tonight - assuming Dr. Who is on!)

When I woke, as a cup of tea was placed on my bedside cabinet at around 4,30pm, I was disorientated and thought for a second it was 7.30am.  As I eased myself gently up the bed to smile somewhat weakly at my partner and enquire as to the time, Teazle our smokey grey and white cat, adjusted himself on my midriff and took his purr down a semi-tone.  Mungo, our collie x rolled on his back on my partner's pillow; my guide dog looked up and beat his tail and Jo, our rescue collie slept on at the foot of the bed!  I wondered if the rather lame excuse that I was comforting the dogs and cats as they made the transition to having a new puppy in the house might hold water and then decided honesty was the best policy - I had relaxed; and evidently I had needed to sleep!

I feel great now.  But my partner is yawning.  There is a degree of shift work just now with two dogs in quarantine in the kitchen on Squit Alert and the others in the rest of the house!

Puppy News:  Humph has mastered the Library and is now wondering what the hall is for.  He is taking his time and we are letting him.  He looks like a fluffy poodle wearing a rubber life-preserver ring (except it is under his fur).  I am trying to avoid derogatory terms like pot bellied here.  His eyes are still very blue-green so I am guessing they may turn a lighter rather than dark brown - and his nose looks like a little milk choc drop - unlike other disposable commodities that he produces - which still lack firmness.  Still he shows promise - he could probably exhibit at the Tate with what he's produced so far!!!!

Writing news:  I have confirmed in my head my paper's title:

Amor Vincit Omnia? Talk to the Hand 'cos the Face ain't Listening

It may need work...

Two wonderful things about my day's hibernation are that I feel much more alert and relaxed.  Now I will have to do some work tonight - but I guess I won't need to go to bed early!!

Puppy Watching

Friends who have birthed their own children tell me time has a habit of standing still when the baby first arrives home.  Even the simplest tasks seem to lose their focus as hours pass admiring the newly arrived one.  Having a  new puppy has certain similarities.  My partner and I examine each poo with critically informed interest.  Discuss when to introduce each new set of challenges and just enjoy, delight in and play with Humph, our Newfoundland puppy.  He is growing rapidy.  He has a bright, open disposition and he has discovered Coca-cola - he is now tall enough to drink from a glass left on a chair seat!  Tonight he will explore a new room.  After sleeping most of the day, we are hoping this new stimulus will set him up for a good night's sleep.  He is seriously cute - but hasn't the guile to recognise this yet - so is even more adorable.  He has a friend in our beloved Dido, 10 and a half and on a slow defrost as far as having a puppy around!

Enough of the furry antics in our household.  I am trying to get excited about Evelyn Waugh's Scoop! and failing.  It may just be that his colonial 'voice' hasn't stood the test of time or it might simply be I have puppy-itis.  I have a clearer sense of where I need to take the paper I am writing and I plan to write it tomorrow - whether my toes are being eaten or not!  I tend to give a lot of time to thinking through my views and arguments.  I am fortunate once my 'throughline' is clear, I can write reasonably quickly.  My main focus is on identity in this piece.  I will need to take a few days footnoting and adding quotes etc... Not to mention tidying it up. But 'twill be done.

Fortunately now Humph has his routines I can claim some time back.  Or rather he has taught me what he needs and when and can now dismiss me to get on with other tasks.  What's that old saying?  Dogs have owners and cats have staff?  Pups may be the exception.

We are addressing how we can become greener.  We love our caravan and the freedom it gives us - but it needs a gas guzzler to tow it - and we have felt guilty about owning a 4x4 for ages.  Although it is occasionally justified when the weather is bad, with global warming, the concept of becoming snowed in is increasingly apocraphyl.  We are looking at a number of small cars and are contemplating relegating Edmund (caravan) to a writing space for me - or to be sold.  Selling makes the most sense, but it is strange how many happy memories are tied up in the thing and that gets in the way of the logical and sensible.  We know we can cut down our CO2 footprint by cutting journeys.  I am also considering growing our own - a way to keep fit - and have organic veg' available.  One of our dogs could easily be a JCB - he digs so much - so that should help!  First things first we need to renovate the greenhouse and start to clear the big garden a bit - then I must research the fine art of composting.

Let's hope Humph will pull a wheelbarrow when he's older...

"I've Got Life"

I am sorry it has been ages since I blogged.  I went South for our son's Half Term break expecting to stay a few days in England 'doing' teenage 'things' - when we ended up staying a month.  Nothing could be done about it - just one of those things - but we were needed - so we stayed.

It's difficult to know where to pick up from in terms of the story so far.  I am so very much better.  I am writing with no shame and great delight.  I suppose the inevitable has happened.  I have fallen in love - and I am thrilled.  It was his sense of living in the moment that first caught me - not to mention his quirky good looks - bronze, fit and shot through with almost auburn hair.  He glitters in the sunlight.  We haven't known each other long - but it is the real thing however difficult it is for my partner.   It is true he is a lot younger than me.  It is also true that I was pretty ill earlier in the year - and some critical folk who cannot let bygones be bygones might grumble and gossip and say I am letting the side down as a priest allowing my feelings to run away with me like this - I am supposed to be a morally upright sort.  Well, I'm sorry - but I just can't help it.  I know how I feel and what I feel is real.  I am humming all the time in my head the Nina Simone song about finding life.

I am dying to tell you all about him - so here goes.  Humphrey Lyttleton Wallman-Girdlestone is an 8 weeks old (today) Newfoundland puppy.  He is my love and a delight to have around.  He came from a kennel aptly called Joybringer - and although his breeder occasionally resembled a hell-raiser with her rather uncompromising manner - she certainly knows how to produce a beautiful pup full of joie de vivre!

We collected Humph on 21st June and brought him straight home.  Sixteen hours in the car while he and later in the journey, our Golden Retriver, produced squits was not for the faint hearted.  We took him straight to our vet early on Sunday morning having not slept because we wanted them both checked.  Fortunately he wasn't too dehydrated so we could take him home and begin his emergency 'Recovery Plan'.  Dido, our Golden Retriever, who has a strong constitution recovered quickly, but Humph isn't quite out of the woods yet.  For now they are in 'quarentine' in the kitchen and the other dogs are being kept elsewhere.

There was a difficult moment when the breeder found out that I was sleeping in the kitchen with the dogs overnight.  She feels this is deeply detrimental.  My partner hadn't the heart to tell her that usually four dogs and two cats sleep with us in our bedroom - and that I wasn't sleeping in the kitchen so much for Humph as for Dido who is used to having dog or human company that she can rely on and snuggle!

Humph's poop results are back - and the real killer conditions have been ruled out, however, the lab' is able to grow some bacteria from the culture and will need about another six days before they can identify it.  For now we are to keeping him on the bland puppy food we have and we watch and weight to make sure the outpourings do not become more syrupy.  If they do - then back to the vet.  Poor dog.  If personality is enough he will romp back to health - but alas it isn't always that straight forward.  We are taking comfort in the fact that he is very playful; happy to be left alone and feeding and drinking well.  Favourite toys are a small plastic Coke bottle with treats inside and the lid screwed on.  He loves the noise.  Also a fluffy toy shaped as a Phesant that quacks.  I have concerns that this is giving him a developmental mixed message - but he positively giggles with delight when he plays with it.

Humph is growing by the hour and his paws are like tea plates.  We suspect he will have grown into his name by the time you read this!!!  We may need to change it to Hefferlump.

The other dogs are being remarkably long-suffering and coping with the separations.  The cats have met Humph and I suspect think he is a clockwork toy.  They seem wholly unmoved.  I am happy.  Not just with Humph - but with the milestone he represents.

Now the mad panic begins.  I am not sure if we will need to go to see our son again over the next couple of weeks or whether I will be able to attend a conference I have been looking forward to so much.  Whatever and whichever - we have a new member of the Pack - and a very fine young creature he is too.

70th Birthday Celebrations

I am writing this whilst devouring a fresh cream eclair.  Birthday celebrations - my partner is 70.  It feels quite unbelievable - but he is - and looking and feeling good to boot.

Recently approached a couple of local galleries and sent some photos of canvases through to them.  Feedback from one gallery was very straightforward - my style wasn't their thing.  The other gallery have been unbelievably helpful and positive.  My work shows potential but I need to work on technique and technical issues.  I told my art therapist on the phone today about this huge boost and she said it was a little like playing the piano - you need to practice the scales to get anywhere.  True enough.  I will now research some short art courses - and with the help of the gallery I now have some contacts for local Highland exhibitions that I may be able to contribute to.  Wow.  Yippeeeee.  So the painting is really dveloping hands, feet and a heart of it's own.

I was taken out to lunch by a rather handsome 70 year old man.  We went to one of our favourite watering holes and it was a wonderful opportunity to wear my birthday trousers (as opposed to suit) - gorgeous patchwork!  I felt like the bees knees even if I probably resembled Worzle Gummidge in reality. I don't care I LOVE them! 

We have had a smashing celebratory day.  Much as usual with the mix of jobs and activities - but spun with the knowledge that we have something so very special to celebrate.

70th Birthday

 

Today I celebrate nativity.

The catalytic effect of chronology illuminated by experience.

Looking into your eyes I catch the sparkle

That took my breath away on a wet evening long ago.

I hold the hand of my greatest friend as we dawdle past the fragrances of early summer;  kids at heart.

I see in you an extraordinary life living and enjoying the moment; basking in the mindfulness of the day.

You have taught me to be present; the joy of spontaneity and the excitement of the moment.

You have offered me love; the intimacy of being what you are not simply showing what you mean

You have patiently taught me to delight in trains, scenery and driving down paths that you insist are county lanes.

And I have made you laugh; dance and fly, but not necessarily in that order.

I join with our family and our friends in delighting in the day you were birthed and all that has come to be.

I raise my cup of tea to an intoxicating teatotaller with the desire to be himself and live his dream.  JEWG