walking

We have been encouraged to take exercise throughout this pandemic, for the good of both physical and mental health. Since buying a fitness band when I was still in work, I have made a concerted effort to increase the number of steps I do each day, when not constrained by higher levels of pain or exhaustion than normal. My first target, back in around 2017, and still deskbound, was 2000 steps a day. It has built since then to the point where I regularly reach my 5000 a day target and occasionally go well beyond. That won't sound like much to anyone with any sensible level of fitness, but for me it is an achievement, and tells me that I can probably manage more as long as I keep pushing, remain patient and accept that sometimes I won't even mange half those 5000 steps in a day.

We are fortunate where we live to have the sea within walking distance, and also very benign suburban streets where one can be aware of birdsong, the wind shushing through a hedge, low raking sunlight illuminating the leaves, and all sorts of interesting gardens to peer at. 

sunny skies or windy, the sea is always good to watch

there are fairies and gnomes of you look closely, I wonder what it's like when the lights come on!

There are so many interesting things to see when you are looking.

With the good of my health in mind, and with the help of the fitness app, I can now set myself distance targets and have managed nearly two miles on two different days. A long walk for me, with the occasional stop for breath catching and general realignment of aching bones! 

A new rose bed

We've had a flower bed in front of our dilapidated shed for some years now. When we first moved here in 2010 there was nothing, just grass, weeds and muddle.

So, in 2012, having painted the shed, and wired it up to give the roses more support, we dug out the grass weeds and muddle and planted it up with irises, which started life in our old garden in 2008

These were beautiful for a couple of years,

but gradually we got less and less flower and more and more weeds - the lack of flower I think because the soil was poor and tended to be very waterlogged in the winter - the weeds due to my not having the energy or is that diligence, to keep on top of things.

So this year, taking our cue from the two rather beautiful roses which thrive and were here when we arrived,

my Good Soul dug up the remaining irises, still quite a collection I might add, and will take them off and nurture them until we decide where to try next. They have been very forgiving so far, so I hope they do well once we move them to their new place - probably in the front garden where they will get lots of sunshine to bake their rhizomes.

I then spent about six days, on and off, taking it mindfully, pacing myself to avoid too many aches and pains, and dug through the whole bed. I pulled out all the weeds and as much suspicious root as I could, then turned in a generous quantity of composted manure and mulch and mix to feed the soil. The process reminds me in an odd way of making pastry or mixing up a cake - not that I do much baking, but it's a similar thing, just on a much larger and more exhausting scale and the heat comes from the sun rather than an oven!

Having done all that I have planted it up with three more roses; deep plum, stripy pink and dusky peach, in the hope that, like those already there, they too will thrive. I've tucked in some annuals; blue pansies and some pinks,

and rich rusty magenta petunias,

Also a few perennials; columbine, my very favourites, to join the self seeded one that was there already,

don't you just love their little curly topped seedheads?

really, you can't have too many

Also some speedwell, a couple of sedums from another much loved Aunt's garden and a some geraniums (not pelargonioums) which will bush up and give us more blue and pink. Oh, and added some edging to the bed - a slightly obtrusive plastic one that I hope will tone down a bit as the years go by. It should prevent the grass from taking over again.

Now to sit back and look forward to seeing what the summer will bring.

Qute a change from the picture up top eh? Look how those roses have grown.

I've been mulching

Which makes me sound like a ruminant in a field. Actually, it's just spreading stuff on the ground to feed the soil and suppress the weeds. Should be done in Spring and Autumn. 

I garden in little bits, it suits my state of health to do, say half and hour, then stop and rest, then go back and do a little more. I've had this on the go for the past two weeks I think; I dig a little bit, pull out as much weed as possible, on hands and knees, working bare hand if necessary, round those delicate things you find when you are close to the ground, self seeded thises and thats, which need careful fingers about them to ensure that encroaching grass doesn't grab them too, as you pull it out.

The mulch is a mixture or garden centre bought stuff, dark rich brown and very most; then some leaf mould collected a couple of years ago, stored in a plastic bag to rot down until ready; add some ground up prunings that have been sitting in a black bin for a couple of years; stir in some birdsong and fresh air and there you are, a lovely soft brown blanket to snuggle around the plants and keep the moisture in.

In this area I haven't even finished the weeding, 

but I've cleared round Mum's tree and the azaleas and given each a good spread of the brown stuff. I'll tackle the weeds again tomorrow

Lovely

free flight

buzzard and seagull vying for space as Spring surges

a little breath of wind

a flutter in the undergrowth

light held so delicately

I have had increasing tooth problems in the past couple of weeks and months - two abscesses, two extractions, much lowness of spirit, some forbearance;

I'm on the mend

Mindful gardening

It was Bank Holiday weekend so I spent some time gardening. Of course I did, it's what we do on Bank Holidays, but with physical frailties, how to do this safely. I am always conscious that, unlike Mum, Ganna and Connie my bones aren't yet fragile, but I still need to be careful with any sort of excercise outside the usual walking to and fro!

Doing Pilates regularly, and Tai Chi occasionally help me to minimise damage from tweaks and strains. Both draw your focus in to how the body moves;  make you aware of which muscles should be working and which should be supporting; where your weight and balance are. I try to bring this awareness into gardening particularly, because it's easy to do myself a mischief, so here's how I try and make it work .....

Mindful weeding and digging .....

Push the small hand fork into the soil, just to the fork's depth, then a wiggle waggle carefully in a criss cross pattern to loosen things. Do this over a small area, making sure not to extend beyond the natural reach. Then down to hands and knees and, bit by bit, work the loosened soil with a hand fork, pulling out the weeds and their roots, apologising to worms if you accidentally bring them to the surface and tucking them back into a bit of soil you're not digging. Work each small area, changing the task frequently to use different muscle groups, so: fork in soil, push down with foot, wiggle waggle, repeat several times, down to hands and knees, sift, lift, discard, apologise to the beetles, repeat. Do for no longer than 30 minutes, preferably 20 then rest. 

This is about what I can manage in half an hour.

which is a start, but also a bit daunting in the context of what's left, the bed where the old dears live. I cleared and replanted it last year, but it has got a bit uppity while my back was turned. No wonder the old dears grumble.

I was amused a couple of weekends ago by a friend who, hearing I was digging, declared that I must be better. I never feel that "better" is an option. Managing, and sometimes not quite managing is closer to the truth. The last thing I want is to sound self pitying, but it's hard to be real about this stuff without it looking like a whinge or being mawkish! The truth is, I wake up almost every morning exhausted, usually in some pain, but still feel lucky to be where I am and with the people I belong to. Life is good and the world is beautiful, rain or shine

So, here's another recent project; the little bed next to the well just outside the sitting room, which I look out on from my chair. The flowering currant has finished, the hydrangea just coming into leaf and some rather oversized bergenia which were threatening to engulf the Japanese lady have been moved to a more appropriate spot, much to her relief.

The whole area has been weeded and replanted. My good soul did the digging and planting, once I had finished dithering about deciding where things should go. Little delicate woodland plants, much more in keeping with the size and situation of the bed.

The cherub expresssed a preference,

the chaps had had their say

and our wild canine visitor had made her suggestions.

Later on she brought the new kid on the block along to give his/her opinion as well. More interested in what tasty morsels the birds might have left I think.

Oh, and I really am thrilled with my new galoshes! They've got sparkles, and I'm still far too much of a child not to love them

Living in another land

I've been here in the last few weeks, time off, resting, enough brain power to begin reading, fascinated by this long ago, yet very human place and time. It may be a while before I finish these!

Back at work today, my hand aching like an incessant toothache, not entirely sure why, and labyrinthitis making any move from the absolute vertical a bit interesting, a trying day, but otherwise manageable. People were kind, and work got done

.......

Auditioning

I am away from work at the moment, on doctors orders. This gives me some time to nurse the daily hurts that come with having Fybromyalgia and a connective tissue disorder, which leave me feeling drained and exhausted. I don't talk about my health much here, it seems too much like an indulgence, and is only part of who I am. However, I reached a point where I simply had to stop. This allows me to do things at my own pace, to rest when I need to and to take a focused course of Ibuprofen to try and help my body to heal itself. I feel like a convalescent, but the positive side is that I have time to work on a stitch project our Branch Chairman has suggested, a sort of stitch dictionary. We chose two bits of fabric and a piece of folded paper on which was writ our stitch - in my case, blanket stitch. One is to work the stitch in as many variants as possible, using a variety of threads and pushing the stitch to see where it will go. The second bit of fabric is to create an image, using the threads and stitches.

The first task, of course, is to audition threads. I tried a varity, the brief being to use as many different weights and types of thread, and to push the stitch as far as it will go. There were a number that didn't work

This little twist of greens (from Cecil's stash), while full of lovely textures, moves the colour range too far away from "neutrals" which was the brief

likewise, the yellow/orange is, too far away from the initial range. 

So here is what I came up with

the darker piece of fabric will be my test bed, the rosy coloured one I'm keeping for the image. This is my excuse for moving the colours towards the rusty and ruddy, which blend with the darker fabric as well. I have a few ideas for an image, but nothing firm yet. I'm waiting to see what the stitch can do and what it says to me.

evening light

Work is just beginning to slow down a little and I am managing to get back to my "normal" hours. I'm also trying (for the umpteenth time) to walk down to the seaside at least every other day as the ceaseless rain is also beginning to slow and there is space in the day for walking. This view is my reward - well worth the effort.

When we moved here, just over three years ago, I couldn't walk down and back (only two miles) without stopping on the way up at least once to ease the pain in my legs and back, and catch my breath. Now I am glad to say there is no need to stop (sometimes) and the hurting is easing. This is not said to evoke sympathy - I've lived with chronic pain for most of my adult life, one way or another, and have no need (or desire) for sympathy - but it is good to know that even my poorly disciplined efforts to improve my fitness are bearing some fruit!

On the Pin Board

This just makes life so much easier, there's none of that creeping up onto chairs, in socks, one hand hampered by camera, then leaning out over quilt on floor to take picture at correct angle, thereby breaking several health and safety byelaws in fifty two languages including that of common sense! Here, it is pinned up on the wall, for final review before the quilting takes place.

This taken at 2pm this afternoon on my fourth and final day with Christine. All my pieces pieced, I've adjusted the position of a couple of bits in the final arrangement but no quilting, nor even safety pin tacking done yet!  I managed one bit of quilting before I came home - in the ditch round the big blue rectangle in the middle; the quilting that is. I have enjoyed every moment of my time there and have learned such a lot. I understand about precision, retracting your blade every time, undoing mistakes, measuring properly, all sorts. I was amazed at the way, once pieced, this came out with so few misalignments - I'm thinking back to this one. I remember how many joins I fudged, how many differing weights of fabric moved and reacted against each other. As with all personally taught courses, the best part was watching Christine do what she was teaching me to do - to see it done properly I mean. She is a very good teacher as well, so when she demonstrates, you understand what you are being shown. Then you try yourself, and realise how skilled  and precise her piecing and quilting are!

I have had such fun doing this, though I find keeping going through a time constrained day of activity quite exhausting. It makes me realise that, when at home I can practice the sort of pacing I was taught at the pain management course last year. So, I do stuff for a bit, then I take a break, do a bit more, break, do a bit more, push it a bit, then another break. That way I can manage as much, but in a longer timespan and with more rests in between. That is, incidentally, only commentary, not complaint, but I did feel pretty shattered when I got home.

I now have the fun of quilting it, but all in good time. I have to go back to work tomorrow, so it may have to wait 'til the weekend.

I can recommend a pin board!

while I was sleeping

the frost came and transformed the view from my window that I love so much. This doesn't really do justice to the soft yet rich palette of morning colours. Most of the leaves have been carried off by recent winds; those that are left are wonderful shades of maroon and gold, a symphony of harmonious singing shades, softened by early mist.

Sadly, while I was sleeping the previous night, my back seems to have fallen out! I was woken in the dark early hours by what I can only describe as a sense that something inside was gradually opening, like a dark night flower, and spilling pain in a radiant glow from the centre of my spine. Planetary rings, hot and flowing around my core. It took my breath away, I had to brace myself while it ebbed and seeped through me. I managed to turn onto my back as that is usually the best way to help the pain subside. It was dark outside, and cold inside, so I lay until dawn came, holding myself against the discomfort, longing to move yet dreading it. I was staying with my very dear, but memory deprived Aunt, and didn't want to wake her. Eventually it was late enough to crawl out of bed and be made a cup of tea amidst many protestations and offers of help, repeated many, many times!

I managed the two hour drive home, not always within the speed limit I have to confess, but longing to lie down before the pain killers wore out. So now I am putting life on hold until things improve - not sure how long it will take!

If anyone happens to be passing Kidmore End and finds a stray bit of back lying around, could they send it to me poste haste please? Meanwhile I'll practice my mindfulness.

my canine friend

A little muse on the black dog, who visits from time to time, wraps me lovingly in his great hairy paws and tries to tell me that his is the only view of the world.

The problem with this is that sometimes it's hard to see beyond all that fur, it obscures, makes one feel that really, this is the only true view, and so the soul shrinks and the heart feels afraid. However much the bossy rational mind says "oh for goodness sake, stop being such a wuss, get a grip, get over yourself", that old dog feels so warm, so oddly reassuring, so comfortably uncomfortable, that it's hard to resist. He's been my occasional companion for many years now, and his presence has a tendency to stifle to the point that, when he starts to move away for a while, it can feel as frightening as when he's close and cuddly. Constant pain (which is just another way of being) doesn't help, as the weariness makes it hard to find a true perspective at times.

We had very welcome visitors last week. But we normally lead a pretty quiet life and have still not got ourselves "straight" after decanting three large flats into one middle sized house just under a year ago. However welcome, the preparation, the clearing to make space, the being "on show" - this was their first visit, and the pleasurable effort of a long day in London, where we spent some time in the presence of Gerhard Richter's extraordinary canvases, took their toll. I am still, a week later, in more pain than usual, as my body recovers from the extra exertions. One can't expect young, fit visitors to amend their usually busy way of being, or understand the invisible effects of a somewhat compromised physique. The change in pace left me drained. Suffice to say, "let it come, let it be, let it go" is a good mantra to take one through - pat the dog on the head, look the other way and just wait quietly, doing as much of life as possible, until he gets bored with the lack of attention and turns his mind to other things.

And remember - he will go away, he always does, he's only there when you look at him .....

Feeling lucky

I mentioned, I think, that I've been going to a series of Pain Management classes at the local hospital. We are nearing the end of this now, two more sessions to go and then we're on our own until a follow up session in September. It has been an enriching experience, also humbling, encouraging and at times just plain fun as a small group of people, all with similar problems have got to know each other.

The course works on a number of levels, combining advice about how to run your life so as not to increase the level of pain you live with; some gentle daily exercises; a bit of cognitive behaviour therapy and relaxation techniques. It has reinforced the way that I try to manage the daily challenge of not letting pain and discomfort take over; a recent session had a brief section on mindfulness; central, to me, for coping. It has also shown me how much others have to deal with, reminding me that actually things are not that bad really. Yes, my body hurts every day, and has done so pretty much for the past twenty odd years, with intermittent pain going back to when I was eleven, but there are people on the course who have far worse pain to cope with, who have had to give up a lot more than I have because of it.

One of the things we have looked at is pacing and goal setting. A simple concept, but very important. You set yourself achievable small goals, and work out how to get there by breaking them down into even smaller goals, so that you have a series of targets that you know you can achieve. You work at the pace you can manage whatever your day is like, rather than going all out for it on a good day, then having a setback because you've done too much, so end up feeling downhearted. My overall goal is to be able to walk from the holiday home we have in the Lakes to a pub and back, a distance of I guess about 6 miles. I know I could do it last year - just, but since then I seem to have lost a significant level of what little fitness I had. This is where the pacing bit comes in, if you'll forgive the pun. I set myself a target of walking from home down to the beach and back again twice a week. This is about 1 1/2 miles there and back and I have to take a rest at the bottom of the hill before turning round to come home. On the way back it us uphill all the way and by the time I get home I am puffed and my heart has had a good, albeit short workout. Doesn't sound much really, but I know that others who attend this course couldn't manage even that little expedition; I know that, before she died, my Mum couldn't have got from the front door to the road, so I revel in the thumping of my heart as I toil up the hill, so pleased that I can manage even this small feat, and hoping that it will build and build so that, by the end of September, that walk to the pub and back will be a breeze.

The course also talks about giving yourself a reward to spur you to achieving these little, baby steps goals. What could be a better reward than knowing that, when I reach the bottom of the hill, this wonderful view is just waiting for me, day after day after day.

Beachy Head sunset

Lucky eh?