Thursday 29 August 2019

29th August

The journey back from Cornwall was fine. There were no raucous hen parties which there well
could have been on a Bank Holiday Friday and no fractious toddlers, It is a beautiful trip over the Tamar bridge and along the beach at Dawlish. Although the temperatures soared over the weekend, it is always cool here at home, so I did not wilt in the heat.
I saw the consultant on Tuesday following my CT scan. She is incredibly tall, slim and beautiful.
It was sort of good news really as though cancer in the liver has spread, the rest of it is about the same, so it may be that I have to send the Christmas cards after all. Oh, bother. I am to have an MRI scan to check out my bones as my mobility is getting very poor/
Tiger has been staying with me. WE intended to go blackberrying and make some jam but we could not find any nearby in the usual places, so she kindly did useful jobs for me instead. She has the most amazing talents: she cleaned out the fridge getting rid of ancient stuff and did the nasty cupboard behind the kitchen door, and then went through all the old photo albums sending the best ones to the people concerned and chucked away loads of others. What a sense of relief to have got rid of a lot more stuff.
I am trying to like green tea and I am making an effort to put turmeric in things as they are supposed to be good for you.
Vicky

I love the light at this time of year.  I went to a good festival called Shambala last weekend, where there is no meat or fish or cows milk or single-use plastic, but lots of partying and fancy dress and good bands and workshops.  I was moved by a play that told the story of a year in the life of a cuckoo, and some women folk singers doing songs from their ancestors, particularly.  An eccentric singer called Alabaster dePlume kept telling the audience they were doing very well, which I thought was nice, as life is so tricky.  
It was lovely to get home and do the washing and put the camping stuff away then sit outside with Vicky by her whispering green trees in Ditchling and chat as I missed her when she was away.  I am terribly mummyish.

Thursday 22 August 2019

22nd August

Vicky is in Cornwall and I won't see her until Monday.  I am so mummified I feel a sense of anxiety, but she assures me she can manage the train home and will be OK.
I stayed on Knepp Estate this week which is a rewilded farm, so there are happy cows, pigs, deer and ponies grazing and frolicking free-range, suckling their young,  and large fields full of fleabane and other weeds.  I swam in a murky pond feeling like a whimsical maiden but was disconcerted to see a large brown rat slipping into it the next day.  I wouldn't have minded if it had been a vole.  Calls of owls and other birds were all around us and the city of Brighton feels especially loud and sordid now.  I am so fond of Brighton but wish that more of England was rewilded.  The Isle of Wight is full of rewilding but no one has thought to call it that, it is more that it has been forgotten.
Josie



I am writing this in Cornwall. I am in John  Betjeman country on the north coast near Trebetheric where he wrote about sand in the sandwiches and wasps in the tea on seaside picnics, and St Enodocs church too and I sat in the churchyard imagining him there 
My dear friends, H and C are such kind and generous hosts and I have a comfortable bed and a friendly bath.  I find. some bathrooms daunting and it is a real treat to be here.
It is bothersome that I now find walking so difficult, so I tend to sit in a sunny spot with a nice view,  also a book, while H. and  C go for a walk with George the dog who was rescued from Serbia and is very lovely.

I haven’t watched any TV or listened to the radio, so I have no idea what Boris and co are up to.     I go back home tomorrow on GWR and hope for the best.    You never know with trains nowadays.
  Vicky







Thursday 15 August 2019

15th August

Back to an empty house and a straggly garden but a certain pleasure in making tasty meals for one and talking to the cat.  The hospital has been intense this week, and the wind and rain batter us as we scamper from ward to ward between buildings.  I lit the wood burner last night and flitted through channels watching The History of Scotland, GPs behind closed doors, and a daft competition programme about interior design. 
I have lots of lavender so have started sewing lavender bags.  I have special needs in sewing, but it calms the mind. 
We have been practising our interpretive dances for the play about Vick's life.  The war, her school days and the hospital. Hopefully, they will cause some amusement, however avant-garde.
Josie


Its a full-time job keeping up with everything health-wise. Hearing aid place on Monday, blood test in the afternoon where I waited for 1.5 hours with magazines dating back to 2015.  Wednesday I had a CT scan where I sat for two hours in the most depressing airless waiting room I have ever been in with a leak on the ceiling.  There was a congenial crowd of fellow patients.  We did not discuss our diseases but chatted about arts and crafts.  There is a visit to outpatients coming up to get the scan results.  It is all go.  
We had the Nibbles and Scribbles today at Waterstones.  We take turns to bring exercises.  Topics today ranged from cows to receipts and being stranded on a desert island.  It always amazes me how different our bits of writing turn out.  
I'm off to Cornwall next week on the train.  Quite an adventure these days.
Vicky

Sunday 11 August 2019

August 10th

Just returned from my spiritual home, the Isle of Wight.  My feet ache as my friend and I walked from our campsite to the ferry today which was exciting in the tornado but it was a long walk of many many miles.  We left our caravans at 8am after a wakeful night in the storm, when I wondered if all the four walls of our caravan would fall down.  We walked through the ancient Brighstone Forest where the noise from the oak trees blowing in the wind was delicious.  We ate lumps of cheese and carrots on the way and saw three hares.  The colours were pale and washed out and we passed through heathland and meadows and coastal paths, where we lost our footing at times in the gale.  We may have glimpsed a nightjar.  We passed tumbledown cabins and beach huts. We felt so tired as we reached Cowes we were beyond words. We barely saw another human on the walk until we stomped past the Pimms tents and stripey jumpers of the Cowes week sailing community. 
Overall the holiday was lovely, with lots of friends and family around, and a typical Darling party on the first day. There was high energy music and dancing but it was all over by eight pm. The Isle of Wight may look sleepy but it can be quite dramatic.  That is one of the reasons I love it so.
Josie


In my list of graduation ceremonies that I did not attend, I omitted my son C's, who got a first at Exeter.  Sorry about that.
I too am back from the epic celebrations on the Island.  Surprisingly we all got there and back safely, despite dodgy cars that sometimes don't start, or stop suddenly and ferries that are inexplicably cancelled.  We had wonderful weather culminating in 74 mph winds at the Needles, not far away from where many family and friends were camping.
I didn't camp but stayed in luxury at The Bugle in Yarmouth.  There were four generations of Darlings present.  I was no longer able to descend the hazardous steps to the beach, so sat like a benign matriarch at the top, surveying my tribe.
Health report;  feeling a bit weak and wishy-washy but Carrying On.
Vicky