Always by my side. Now I’m a widow. What a weird word. My fate was to be left behind. Yours was to leave first.
The cats keep looking for you. The house is quiet. No explosions of humour and excitement. Just full but empty. Echoing with your life. Your things are everywhere. Your books, your clothes, shoes, things. What do I do?
Lots of support, I’m organising and tidying. Getting advice. Looking for help. Trying to stay calm. Alert about my body, my health.
Time will pass, I will seek support, I must try and go on. Enough sadness for a whole lifetime has poured like molten metal into my heart, burning and breaking. But I must go on.
In shock, two men around 20s were in our garden about 2pm, hubby disturbed them. They took electric shears and other stuff. I saw them go over our gate, tried to grab one. Very shook up. They both have short dark hair, one with a beard, about 5’10”,black jackets and trousers. Ran up our Road, hubby chased them Police have been. Fed up this is Four Times in a week!
Spoke to neighbours they have had their sheds broken into. It seems like a crime spree. I’m blogging to try and take my mind off things.
The gap is, there like a broken tooth. Whoever got in the garden broke down the old fence and broke down branches. I’m fed up because a builder cut our hedge severely last year so he could get a digger down our alleyway. Then the local shop said they were going to put a gate across the alley for security but it hasn’t happened yet. I’m trying to get a builder in to put in some fencing, but he hasn’t responded…. Oh well. We hope our efforts work. But we won’t be storing things in the garden again.
When I was young I used to run in races, I didn’t have any training but I would get quiet good places in school sports day races. I was fit, I used to jump over my dad’s saw bench, using it as a hurdle in our back garden. I also used to love climbing up the swing and hanging off the top.
As I got older we would walk to places and I got good at cycling. I was able to cycle 40 miles up to my boyfriends house north of Manchester and down to my mom’s home near Birmingham.
Then I had an accident, my bike was damaged and we got a car. The car was useful for commuting to work. The repair shop which was fixing my bike lost it for a year! But I still walked around my patch at work, so I stayed fit. I eventually got my bike back, but never felt the same way.
I still walked a bit, but my health wasn’t good. I put on weight and my job changed so I was more sedentary. I didn’t realise how big I was getting until a health scare.
I lost about a third of my body weight and met a good friend. We started walking together and I started to get fit again. I was also going on walks with hubby.
Then the pandemic happened. I still walked but didn’t see friends as much. My health was not good and although I was trying, when my friend got a new job I stopped walking as much. At the time I pulled my calf muscle and ended up off my feet for several weeks. I slowly started to gain strength, but I wasn’t able to do as much. Other sad things happened and I got in a rut.
Now I’m slowly recovering from another injury. I must start walking again as soon as I can. Being stuck at home is very frustrating.
I put months of work into the murals at the Leopard Hotel in Burslem, Stoke-on-Trent. I did around twelve, but then it closed down a few years ago and eventually burnt down. The shell of the building is still there.
I used to paint in the evenings after work and most of the time on my own, and the Arnold Bennett suite that I painted in was right at the back of the hotel. The room was sometimes quite spooky! You heard odd creaks and noises, but I never felt scared although the Leopard Hotel appeared in Britain’s Most Haunted. It was semi derelict upstairs and there had been plans to restore it. Painting there was a great experience.
Someone put a status on Facebook that the UK should close it’s borders to illegal migrants. I think this is racist and replied:
Who says illegal? Our government. But these people are humans, poor, frightened, children, women, men. We have closed legal entry options, we made them illegal. British people are a mixture of flemish, anglo saxon, celts, French, Italian, west Indian, African, Chinese, Japanese, Turkish, Iranian, Indian, Pakistani, Vietnamese and many other citizens of different cultures and countries. We accepted the transported children who were evacuated from nazi germany. Now we are acting like Hitler Germany. Divide and conquer. Blame incomers for all our ills. Meanwhile Brexit is a fiasco, we have become meaner and more selfish as our freedoms have been curtailed. Sorry but pulling up the drawbridge and sticking our fingers in our ears and singing nah nah na nah na does not help!
People in these situations should be called Refugees, that’s why they are seeking asylum
If you had to give up one word that you use regularly, what would it be?
I wish I didn’t need to use the word poverty, in this country and about the rest of the world.
Poverty can be relative, a millionaire can feel poor in relation to a billionaire. But that’s not real. Or someone who lives in a first world nation can struggle to survive on a very low income, having to chose between heating and eating.
But I think true poverty is in countries wracked by famine, war, sickness or all three. When starvation is rife, and children are stunted by lack of food and clean water.
And yet there are eighty men in the world that own the same amount of money as half the world’s population. That’s 80 : 4,000,000,000. Each one has an average amount of money equal to 50,000,000 individuals.
If only our world was not so unequal. I’m not talking about complete equality, people would fight to the death over that, but perhaps a bit more generous support for the poor and more taxes for the rich. Perhaps charitable foundations to spread food and medicine, to reduce wars, to care for one another. I know that trickle down economics does not work. The trickle is stemmed by the slightly less wealthy. But somehow we must change things, stop poverty, be fair, and tackle the climate change to which is having the most detrimental effect on the poorest in society.
So instead of poverty my new word would be fairness.
Tell us about the last thing you got excited about.
Jupiter tryptic
A couple of weeks ago I was excited that one of my paintings would be entered into an astronomy competition. A magazine wanted to see people’s artwork so I sent in this image. Then I got a message asking me to send in again with a jpeg (it was) as an attachment (my phone sends the image embeded in the email).
I tried again, it did the same trick. I started to walk upstairs to send the image on my PC instead. Snap! That was when my ligament snapped.
Of course I emailed to apologise and explain. I also asked if they had anyone technically able to get the file as I only have my mobile to use as I’m stuck downstairs! I’ve had no response, no reply. I feel dismissed and fed up. Excitement, what excitement?
Mallaband-Brown 