The letter ‘D’

          ‘D’ is for ….

          ‘D’ is for Depression, and Downward spiral . For the self-Distruction of everything you hold Dear until life itself is not worth Doing.

          ‘D’ is for the Doubt that leaves you feeling you’re of no use to anyone, for the Desire to hide from any situation, and the feeling you have to apologise for everything again and again.

          ‘D’ is for the Dependable few who stick around, who help to keep your life ticking over while you are not capable, for the ones who look out for the slightest sign of a call for help and have their hands ready to pull you out of the Descent.

          ‘D’ is for the Doctor, and the increased Dependency on happy pills just to function on a par with normality.

          ‘D’ is for the Deterioration in mental capacity, for the Difference between the person you used to be and the person you are now.

          ‘D’ is still for the Doctor, and for her Determination not to just assume one of “those women” at “that age” is over-reacting again, and for her Decisiveness to Do more tests.

          ‘D’ is for the Discovery that there might be something physically wrong after all, and for the possibility it can be Dealt with …

          ‘D’ is the vitamin, the one made by sunshine on the skin, the one which helps to make the happy chemicals in your body.

          ‘D’ is for Diet, mine of course is Dire, and always has been.

          But ‘D’ is also for ginger person skin and migraines which cause a person to cover up and hide from the sun. (and for poetic licence which allows this paragraph to pretend it began with the letter ‘D’) .

          ‘D’ is for Deficiency, and the Discovery that a vitamin D Deficiency can cause just as much chaos in the body and mind as the hormones can.

          ‘D’ is for the giant Dose of Vitamin D supplements…

          ‘D’ is for the Difference, small and hardly noticeable at first but Definitely there.

          ‘D’ is for not having to live from Day to Day anymore, and for being able to see into the Distance.

          ‘D’ is for Doing the little things again, Doing the things most people Do without thinking.

          ‘D’ is for the hope that vitamin D will treat the cause of the Depression and not just the symptoms.

          ‘D’ is for the Decision to increase the vitamins, and to eventually try to Decrease the happy pills again, maybe when the Daffodils come out next spring.

          ‘D’ is for Daring to climb a tree, and remembering that if the little things make you happy then the big things Don’t really matter.

Mugshot – Pooh bear

          I’ve bought a couple of new mugs … Mugs are a bit like hats … I never really “need” a new mug, we have far too many, but if you give me just half a chance, I’ll buy a new one.

          I enjoy my coffee, I drink mostly de-caf, but I enjoy it anyway, and if I can drink it from a mug which makes me smile, then I enjoy it even more. We very often bring home a mug from a holiday, in which case the “holiday memento” excuse comes into play.

          A half excuse arrived after I was given a large mug for Christmas last year … I like a big cup of coffee so I always use the double coffee selection on my machine. I have a couple of large cups, but they’re too tall, I have to hold them at an angle. The one I had for Christmas last year was normal height, but wide enough to hold the double cup selection, and milk, without overflowing so, of course, I’ve been on the lookout for mugs of the bigger size ever since.

          I don’t remember many of the stories about Pooh bear and his friends, but I do remember the general gist of the friends and so can’t help smiling at their pictures. I remember the Tigger song well, and was spotted singing it again recently to Grandson, The Little Man. He was teething, and not feeling very happy … quite rightly so I might add, but even while teething it is pretty much impossible to cry when someone is holding you close and bouncing up and down to the Tigger song so that every cry you make comes out of your mouth as some sort of bouncy giggle.

          I remember Eeyore, he was always sad, and his tail was held on with a safety-pin, but even though he wasn’t the life and soul of any party, his friends always included him in their stories.

          Winnie the Pooh, and Piglet too ! I had forgotten about little Piglet … I think it’s way past time for me to brush up on a few of the friend’s shenanigans again.

          The human brain is programmed for facial recognition so that we are able to easily recognise others of our species. My brain, being a little bit strange recognises faces and other things which aren’t really there … or are they ? Once I point these things out to others they can usually see them too.

          For instance, when I used to be sitting in the dentist chair looking up at the ceiling trying not to think of all the nasty noises the dentist was making in my mouth, I used to concentrate on the Pixie face smiling back at me from the swirls in the ceiling …

          When we left the old house behind to move to our new house at the seaside, I had a number of “Strange goodbyes” to say to the faces I had befriended in the pattern of the vinyl floor in the littlest room upstairs …

          More recently, whilst waiting for the concrete floor to dry out in the littlest room downstairs I spotted a ” Cat lady” …

          … And let’s not forget the young girl pushing her brother on a swing in the “Squiggles” of the old floor tiles in the bathroom here before they were replaced.

          Now, bearing this in mind, it really is no surprise that the probably random lines forming the grass in the picture on my mug started tugging at my marbles … so much so that I began to be glad I had bought the mug for myself and not for a colleague in work …

          See for yourself …

          … I LIKE FUN WITH YOU AT THE OFFICE !

          I like fun

          With you at the office

          Can you make out any more hidden messages ?

Covid casualties

PART ONE ….

          I’ve been on the train again …

          I went off to stay with Little Sister on a bit of a roller-coaster visit this time. Normally we only manage about two visits a year, and that’s counting one of us each way, but this is my second visit of the year, and I have another trip already planned for next month too …

          I went to stay with Little Sister in May, and we spent the weekend putting up a giant “Shed” in her garden for her to turn into a craft cottage … Now that I’ve seen it finished … Wow! … I want one.

          On my last visit I saw my Mum and Dad, and my Dad was trying to ignore a few health problems. I promised, if he didn’t go to the doctors, that I would nag him, and being married for over thirty-five years, I’ve had a lot of practice at nagging so was pleased that within days he’d been and booked an appointment.

          Mum and Dad were supposed to be visiting us at our seaside last May with plans to go to the Swannery in Abbotsbury, and after Covid had delayed things for a whole year, the trip was arranged again this year to coinside with the flurry of little cygnet feathers, but Dad wasn’t well enough to travel, he had however, been to the doctor and his health was under investigation.

          Meanwhile Eldest Daughter and Son-in-law planned a visit to us. A first away visit with Grandson. Eldest was amazed at how much “stuff” was needed for a visit with the Little Man… Whereas I was amazed at how little she had brought.

          The Little Man managed to pick up a virus to bring with him, not the covid virus, just your everyday sore throat and runny nose, but even with the sneezes and snotty nose, the weekend was a pretty good test-run and since my Dad was unable to travel up to finally meet the Little Man himself, Eldest arranged a weekend to stay with Little Sister to visit with Mum and Dad instead.

          With several different health issues on the horizon, and a bit of luck with the matching dates, I managed to gate-crash Eldest’s visit and so that’s how I found myself once more trying to stay awake by tapping away on my phone at a blog post as the train rattled along its gentle swaying way.

PART TWO …

          With the long weekend over it was time to make my way back home on the train. It wasn’t quite so straightforward on the return journey, as when I arrived at the station I found that my train had been cancelled and I had to go round and round the mulberry bush on a mystery tour to make my way back to my seaside.

          Train journeys are more than a little daunting for me at the best of times, and with Covid still about, the extra rules and requirements mean my poor marbles get rattled beyond recognition. I’m not sure if hiding behind my mask makes it better or worse.

          We’ve been quite lucky with Covid in general. Working for the NHS, Hubby was one of the first of our family to be vaccinated. It’s been such a relief everytime I hear of the next in line being “jabbed” or “double jabbed” as they work down through the age groups and now everone has been jabbed at least once with their second one coming over the horizon.

          Lockdown’s have been a scary pain in the neck, but although we all know of people who have been seriously ill or died, we’ve not lost anyone in our inner family circle. Mum, Dad and Mum-in-law were instantly sheilded . Youngest Son-in-law, also an NHS worker, tested positive and had to self isolate with Youngest Daughter. Their symptoms weren’t too bad and they weathered it well, with hopefully no hidden long covid problems left hidden away for later.

          We’ve pretty much survived by just existing, but at what cost ?

          The NHS has done a wonderful job of coping above and beyond with Covid, and I well and truly take my hat off to all of them, however they now have a battle on their hands to limit the casualties who stayed away to “protect the NHS” .

          My Dad has been caught up in this part of the war as he battles a cancer which has lurked for too long un noticed. Although his future is still not set in stone.

          I’ve been out to work at my supermarket throuout the pandemic and I’m quite glad I was forced to put one foot in front of the other and step out over the doorstep, some days I found it difficult to leave the house, but I kept some form of sanity intact by seeing that the sky hadn’t turned purple, and the rain still fell in a downward direction. Some of my shielding friends and family found it a lot more difficult to finally step out into the strange new reality.

          The “free press” have a lot to answer for spouting doom and gloom about “the plague” and telling us all we’d be “going to hell in a handcart” …

          Thank goodness for the vaccine.

          After what seems like an eternity of being told what to do, how to wash our hands, and how to behave in almost every situation, we are finally to be given the freedom to use our own common sense once more… I wonder if relying on the common sense of some humans, we should fear for humanity itself.

          As we are officially freed from our rules and regulations spare a thought for those who have been scared witless by the hype and have become terrified of pretty much everything, everytime they leave the house.

More from before: a variety of “visitors and visitees“.