I am here, people. I apologise for my absence in Blogland, and for the lack of comments and whatsits. Even my family have started calling to see why I am not posting. Update your blog, they say. And this is from the son who is upstairs as I speak and on his computer there. He checks to see what I am doing. He could, on the other hand, just run down the stairs.
Why haven't I posted? I can't think of anything to say. Nothing exciting going on here at all, except for my daughter's imminent arrival, but I will be excited when she actually walks through the doors at Heathrow, because she is flying. Flying in itself is not a problem, except for Diana. She gets altitude sickness. And heaven help her if she arrives in San Francisco for her very first visit, and looks ill. She will be whisked away and deposited in quarantine in case she has swine flu. And while we are on that subject, I would really rather she didn't get swine flu either.
And then she is in SF all by herself, and as she says, she is 28 and quite grown up enough, having trotted round the globe once or twice, but hey, I am a mother, so I can wail if I like.
So I will be all happy and bouncy when she gets here. She has every intention of cycling over the Golden Gate Bridge, I gather. I don't ask questions. I can find out after it is all over. I just want her home. Here. All intact and without pig flu. Am I the only one who loathes the word "swine"???
The only action around here has been in the garden. I supervised the moving of a shed from one side of the garden to another on Saturday. I use the word "supervised" loosely. The bottom fell out, which complicated things somewhat, but having muscleman David home was a real help. And I lost the ability to move at all on Saturday evening.
And now I have more room for the growbags of vegetables. They are growing. However, I decided that I didn't like the look of all that plastic, so I used all the slats from an old set of double bunks and made a cage for them. A box. My saw was useful, and so was my Dremel drill. And after sitting in my kitchen screwing heaven knows how many screws into the wretched thing to make something like a raised bed, the palm of my right hand was one massive blister. I just kept adding more layers of bandage and dressing till it looked as if I had had major surgery. But it looks good. And then I lost the ability to move once again. We went to a bbq on Sunday evening, and I actually contemplated sitting in the car and having the food brought to me. It was just the smell of the meat on the fire which got me moving.
Then it was Monday. Bank Holiday. And the builders arrived over the fence at 8. I was less than impressed, but got up and decided that I needed to plant things. So I did. And lost the ability to move yet again. As my friends have told me, I have absolutely zero ability to pace my self. Relax. I am a failure, and I am at the stage where I actually see how much damage this obsession with movement can do.
In a sense, I have been subconsciously hoping that if I try to do things, it will all go back to normal. Go away. Push through the pain. Be normal. Move. And the reality is that I can't. I am not normal. I have a problem moving, and it ***(*%^&(%^&*(&)*&*** hurts. Half of me wants to toss out the mountain of medication and try to get my life back. However, that would be both irresponsible and stupid. Having the disabled parking badge thingy has not been a stellar moment in my life. And don't tell me how great it will be when I go shopping. I don't go shopping.
I am here. I am weary. I have nothing brilliant to talk about. Except that I have discovered aqua-robics. I love it! And I can do the exercises in the water! I can't walk when I get out of the pool mind you, but hey, I can do the exercises, so who cares if I end up crawling.
My daughter is on her way tomorrow, and I would really appreciate your prayers for her safety and for her health as she flies across the globe. Home. To me. For a few weeks. It is nearly 18 months since I last saw her. And so help me, I have aged 10 years since then. Maybe she won't recognise me. I will make a banner, I think.
I will put taking some photos on the list for the morning. I am now heading for the couch. I love you all, and please stick around. I will try to do better.