The year in said

of where it will be now ... the volunteer is in the frustrating due process ... but I have passed all criteria so far so good ...which means by the time I get to the destination I know it can transfer the skills ...

All that is left is the rot of a life gone to get through in the past with the rest, that I might recover faster with it not hanging on like leeches ... or the other word on the tip of my tongue ... this the time that sucks my passions out to dry ... 

The slower slow

pace to achieve the tumultuous tasks surround ... An area pulled out until I could no longer do it a while ... the jiggle in the tidy back ... the haphazard dump in the shopping trolley ...

To use this trolley to support myself in  the tasks to get at least the gas top up with winter usage and being ill reducing it from the maximum top amount .... 

My mouths tastes

like the back of beyond ... those pesky hormones ... I have managed to adapt my fresh food and use my freezer stock at this time. It is hard to do things to keep well when you feel dizzy ...Especially to replenish the nutrients that are being lost at this time.

I now have to juggle the budget to get a home delivery of groceries to keep up stock levels to live. And I hope I am well enough in not feeling too dizzy to physically to top up the utility's. It is good I wack on to the maximum on both gas and electric, so as not to think about it while I get in routines and the clearing and organising of life up... 

Only I attempt to keep it topped up fortnightly these days for the cash flow  .... and aggravated that my replenishing routines I trying to obtain back, are once again mucked up ... 

The time to plan

for a long time does not sit with me ... I am attempting the try this week to have a more structured time ... this phase I find the whim rather than structure. 

and the forray in my own planning system makes for a defining time in using the excess stock I have here ...

An idea to function my days in weeks in the move from here to there 

The days when you cannot

fail to see through the filters of communications. Though you do not always see. I will keep my thoughts only to my inner circle on this Inauguration Day .... and indeed if I have the right day ... 

Surrealness in style

these new times making a magical entrance for once in the stale linger. A Thursday into Friday not thinking of this death night. Instead all the experiences in feel again .... there is an edge of perpetual shock. The way a death happens, makes it more accepting or not. 

I just do what brings back a smile ... 

A little bit

of this and that, with a reward to watching a significant historical piece of film work. The unique painting which drew us in to a story of equals in a first. A mixed race women with an English rose. This story takes place the 1700s around the Zong massacre which altered perceptions on the values of human life, not human property. 

The colour graduation of all, made for interesting reading in the past. And with sunbeds being invented we can look really tanned if the skin tone allows. And those that work outside, like my late Dad, he was really tanned! 

My daughter and I, see people as a whole. I had a Dad where people stared after his eye accident, until his false eye was able to be put in place.... or is it in our genes. Her boyfriend has facial differences. We don't see it. In fact when I saw a photo of two of his nephews, it looked exactly like him and one of his brothers. We saw the resemblance, not the disability difference, for want of a word. 

Autumnal golds in

the winter mists. The crisp air steaming oven me. The memories and the feel after deep quandaries of change within the environment as though hanging on to a piece of dead wood reluctant to move on on one hand. The eagerness of another ...

A little at ease

amore ... basic baking and the find of a good movie. The sail away from all that surrounds. The peace in pieces ..

A Cornish harbour ... 

Back in the inside of the dark tunnel; the joyous winter moments with my family ...North, South and South West drifting one along.

The beautiful colours seared in my mind of nature in rolling mists set against the natural art of a sunset.   

The hues of dawn too. The glitz and twinkle of the dames costumes at a panto. 

The German Christmas market in foreign spectacular. Along with the attempts at those distracting by begging and coming in too close. The watchful eye of a stall holder who was making sure we enjoyed the ambiance too. The diverse decadence of goods costing too much for most. A day of treats by a daughter giving a day of taste and    Memories made in gift ... 

Severely mired

and looking forward to some more festive seasonal fare, after a few days of digging and delving deep within the home ... it will be most welcome ... The care package details from the death closure of a deceased patient, filing in to a package ready to do what we will. Accessing records and transparency speaks volumes in how we all need our time from such events. The harshness of reality of those that do not actually care. How you are treated cos the natural part of grief in anger, the majority do not have the time for. I fully understand all sides. The constraints of what we can actually do, when we have one eye on the clock and not fully hearing what is said. 

I live with the reminder everyday of a certain crisis now. Everyday drawing strength within to achieve something. 

The conversations whirling in my head, like a black hole that sucked all the goodness out of my life, from so many and so damn disgusting. No wonder my hubby withdrew from life. 

How do I care for others now? When already I have had many coming to me to talk too. I am listening again, instead of the one seeking to be listened to. 

The beauty in a

... poignant time this particular weekend ...especially when we had the recent scattering of snow ... the seasons smells appreciatively flowing through thy abode. The ignoring of what is seen out the corner of the vision. A atmospheric ambiance today with good food made at home. The joy even though in the physical being of one ... 

Those little private celebrations of achievements, in shedding the coat of darkness from a horrid shadow of others wrongs. The bittersweet remembrance that we all can do wrong. It is how we deal in the aftermath of such wrongs that helps build your own character strengths ... and weaknesses ... 

The more in life

I have reacquainted, the more I remember the social skills. I hope to transfer this in time with what is planned and what still to come. A little fuzzy this week, though I managed to ensure and source information... 

Next week too will see when and  what the final appointment will bring. I have the dbs certificate, the references and interview done. With all the support of those who care I will be approaching another era ... in tiny steps ... 

More to be

thankful for again today. A lot less in the weigh in too. The spectre of bad falling and the soften in the blurs. A mass organisation still to face. I opened cupboards and shut them again. I really need the space. I need to overhaul what lurks in there. A suit of hubbys still hanging. That is amazing for much  was not in sync with him at the end. 

The work through of paperwork still seems endless.  I am trying to condense with what will go with me, when I move, each step will pave the wave in what will be. The talk through of this tonight, with my family. We are eargerly awaiting to be reunited... 

but first a sister's op this weekend. With the back to back meetings at her work to ease the patient flow .... she  cannot really be off work with the gold meetings following a hospital being on black. 

For me the strength to be ruthless with my surroundings. The time maybe at a place where one can be ill at ease, ready for transferring the skills to a hospital in Kernow ? This is an interesting time now, I know I still have a bit of it there in bursting back out ... 

The nightly ...

haunts or is it ? ... is the time when it happened?

I attempted to go back to where I was. As it was I went and distracted myself. A result of all those times in worry for another .... who could not see in the end where he was headed, right up to the eve ... nor did anyone else for that matter ... 

I never really talked about it... how can anyone understand in the fleeting moment of listen ... the impact lost on others. When you do open up it is in the wrong time, place or person ...  or given the opportunity one is not ready to disclose ... 

Still very

...bemused by life and death surround ... and how we interpret things. The interaction, in as my sister mentioned in walking an interview. It was informal and it was friendly and with banter. It is only for a tiny tiny portion of time, in volunteer. The gain of much needed experience in usual again. The deal with high emotions and demands on the teams....  One forgets it has been a long haul to get back on track ....  with self believe and esteem ... 

The hardest part will be the build up over time to regain more and more .... including confidence... 

I very much packing up and going elsewhere eventually. This will be in good stead for what I hope to achieve elsewhere... The long haul too on this position for the minimum of three months ... all I find irrational and illogical in itself ... but then realise we are busy people with our own lives too ... 

Where? The How? ... and now for Watt ...?

but my goodness what I did achieve last year to the end... in and out the home ... This is the focus on what I attained, not what to see be in my eyeline currently ... 

The hatred for the continuous disarray in timelines of past, present and future not of the usual questions in quandaries. The mammoth immense task left for us to face. And me mostly when left on me own. 

At least this year a lot will go of the inlaws, I unfortunately had to be custodian of in the way they lived, first when the home was dispersed, then unfortunately when my mum in law passed away, a little earlier than her own Mum ... The photos and things that once used to fascinate me, now I have not much time for ... The recoil in how I am now, after to much for too long ... and the getting rid of it taking longer than I would like ... which tis usual... 

Only this and these are the only remnants of a life from the paternal line my daughter has now. The immediate ones are not here, especially a father in law who was researching the family tree to tell her in person. This bits of paper and certificates and letters tell a lot in itself ... Her hobby of that along with collating all the moving images and making into film now. Her goal is to continue on with her love of filming, and not just filming, the story telling and innovative ideas she has had already ... 

The paternal line though in the meantime giving rise to is it the influence of environment or in the genes in creating the collecting in an OCD nature from collecting to using too much space  ..  The concern for our daughter and future generations... 

Many as

usual out and about with problems and reeked ...their is unkempt and unkempt ... the familiar smell too of ulceration ... in those with neglect issues not always self ... 

A day to start

a task of invisible investment into the vestry of cumbersome misfits. The bounty of forgotten moments. 

How a diagnosis late in coming now here ...now the next stage after achieving much ...