R's rue

Farewell, farewell to you who would hear You lonely travellers all The cold north wind will blow again The winding road does call I have been thinking about Andy Foster the past two days - ever since his son Matt got in touch with me. Matt told me that Andy had recently died - with lung cancer being the prime cause. He had been a lifelong smoker. Andy was my best friend during our early years at secondary school. We played rugby together and we were rebels. We didn't quite fit in in an all boys school that was rooted in the nineteenth century. The masters wore academic gowns and boys were only known by their surnames. Later I moved on to Beverley Grammar School. Back in 1969 when we were fifteen, we hitchhiked down to London together to see Fairport Convention at The Royal Festival Hall. We were both becoming obsessed with the music of the day. After the concert, we were meant to stay at Andy's auntie's house in Bromley, Kent but we had not thought about how to get ...

 My last post wasn’t a sad one. I was just struck by the fact that I looked so happy and rather suddenly I was transported to that hot day in New York where the air quality gave the city a smell and a feel  all of its very own. A strange, airless, slightly industrial typically New York type of atmosphere I remember thinking that as I stopped for a moment on the High Line and  squinted into the sun high over the Hudson River. A moment and a feeling I will always remember. Anyhow I’ve been busy today.  I was up early with the dogs then took Bluebell to the hand wash and gave her a good seeing to with the shampoo Lance which is an incredibly therapeutic experience. I waxed her until she shone like a cornflower and vacuumed her insides until the heady stench of wet bulldog was camouflaged with the scent of lemon and antiseptic. I picked up a coffee at the drive through then drove to the picture framers in St Asaph to pick up two “vintage” posters I had f...

 I have debated writing this, but the time has come. I’m on day two of rest.  Monday I had my baclofen pump refilled. I love and dread it all in one breath. It’s the day I affectionately call meeting with the needle. It’s where precision and patience must meet. The needle must locate the pump and fill.   I have stopped looking at the needle because I know when it meets. It’s not exact and precise all the time. It can take time. In that time I search for kind eyes and small talk. Once done, I leave and carb load so I can have a few hours of energy to walk, shop and enjoy. Once the window closes, exhaustion sets in. The next few days are peaks and valleys of energy. I get bursts. One minute, I feel wonderful, the next I struggle to now doze off. The most mundane tasks become acts of courage. After about a week, I return to the person, I often take for granted. I’m a child of grace, blessed by a benevolent God who gives me access to healthcare many the world over could only ...

 Hot cup Of cocoa Marshmallows Rising To the top Breathing  In the aroma Of coziness from R's rue https://ift.tt/3BL3H2h

 Facebook reminds you of memories  I’ve disabled the facility today  This photo was taken exactly four years ago today It was 75 degrees in New York City in NOVEMBER hey ho from Going Gently https://ift.tt/3GX1R2v