to bed perchance to sleep ...

This is the time for sleep. Try frustration instead of sleep; no thanks, I've just tried that and found it wanting! That was last night's pattern, finding myself totally mentally alert when I should have been resting. Perhaps it was the expectation of a sound nights sleep, following on from a day of plentiful fresh air and a more than modest (but not dangerously so) degree of exertion.

Yesterday was one of those spoiling days, once the bright sunshine had broken through; a cool breeze played wonderful counterpoint to the sun's warmth drawing me out from my domestic habitation. Having returned from a mid-morning visit to 'Open Church', where I consumed a cup or two of coffee as accompaniment to a bit of social chatter, I ventured up to the pond to feed the fish (goldfish and golden orfes) and felt suddenly inspired to apply a fresh dose of teak oil to sundry items of garden furniture.

After grabbing a bit of lunch, I returned to the garden and gave the lawn its first mow of the season and also took a few macro snapshots of some of the spring flowers. After that rather full days activity, I had anticipated a better nights rest than that which I was about to receive. Having settled down in the duvet realm by 11.00pm, at 1.30am I switched on the bedside radio to listen to Radio 3 as I'd not yet managed even a brief snatch of slumber. A further 4 or 5 hours later and I'd still not managed even forty winks. It somehow felt like an overactive mind had determined to thwart my bodies rest requirement.

Sometime between 7.00am and 11.00am I did capture a few spasmodic moments of shuteye whilst purportedly listening to Radio 7 and Radio 2. I then allowed myself to slowly emerge in to a new brightly sunshiny day as I attempted to release a modicum of vibrancy from my shatteredly sleep deprived  body. I headed up to the arbour seat and was swiftly transfixed by the scuttling and chattering activity of the sparrows in the adjacent shrubbery, and the flittering of peacock and white butterflies over the rockery. As I rejoiced in the new seasons growth, I was almost able to forget my general state of shatteredness.

I rejoice and am glad in this day the Lord has made.

That which was lost is found ....

 

My old favourite, age, usage, and weather gnarled, walking stick has suddenly re-emerged on the scene after a couple of days absence. Great was the rejoicing in the land at this recovery, the stick and I go back a long way and, it’s always good to have a familiar and trusted friend readily to hand. After Friday’s recovery of access to a blocked website, it seems as if the age of miracles is not yet passed.

 

Altogether, it has been a much better day; sunshine replacing last night’s deluge, and a remission from the more severe pains that I had been experiencing. After lunch we took our freshly brewed coffee out into the garden, where we sat beside the pond. It wasn’t long before the urge to do a little pottering about arose, so my beloved went to change out of her Sunday best, whilst I (being perpetually scruffily dressed) was immediately ready to spring into semi-sluggish action.

 

I was able to retrieve some very rich compost from the bottom of our composter, to revitalize part of one of the borders, and sprinkled the remnants of some pre-packaged compost onto other border areas freshly relieved from the ravages of ground elder by my beloved. We really do make a great team, I’m frequently ready to watch whilst Helen does the grafting! Having thoroughly raked over these areas I was able to sprinkle a few teasel seeds into the prepared area. Other batches of wildflower seeds had previously been scattered into seed trays and, hopefully (by next Spring) we’ll have ample seedlings to transplant into our wildflower meadow area.

 

Being the day of rest, it seemed far easier to take my leave from the gardening endeavours whilst I still had stamina in reserve. Pacing doesn’t always come that easy!

 

I rejoice and am glad in this day the Lord has made.

Murmuring Mal paces his space

Since my posting earlier in the day, I've posted a further blog, "pacing my space", on Mal's Murmurings. It probably contains what I thought I was going to write about when starting to doodle on the keyboard this morning but,my mind quite naturally went off at a tangent.

Light through a shattered screen

Our experience of the world is always screened through our own subjectivity. This being the case, the past few days found a minimal expectation of enjoyment from these quarters. So, I should be miserable … right? I have been surprised at how satisfying I’m finding life today, despite my low reserves of physical and emotional stamina.

Last evening, my overall mood was being pinned down under a barrage of frustration and, I found myself on the verge of succumbing to despair. There’s no particular incident that can be pinpointed as causing this ‘low’, just an overwhelming sense of falling victim to my own lack of energy, low concentration, the sense of interminable exhaustion. The perpetual nagging aches, which I thought I’d learned to accept, seemed to impose themselves like a cloud in front of anything I hoped to enjoy. Surf the net, and surf again; nothing held my interest. Truth be told, successive days of drowse-laden discomfort tempted me into the realms of self-pity. That way one starts to feed on themselves, so there are even less reserves of energy to draw upon.

When it comes to energy, there’s one thing of which I’m certain; it’s a force that I’m more able to recognize by its absence. Today, by the grace of the gods, I’ve recovered from the despondency, despite starting off in a totally shattered state. By the time I’d emerged from the duvet-realm, my beloved had already been out to a coffee morning at the local chapel and, this dressing gowned zombie managed to greet her on her return. At this point, I was able to help her with finalizing the preparations for the children’s address at the service she’ll be taking tomorrow. This modest polishing of my halo boosted my lazy limbs as I headed towards the shower; my beloved provided the necessary supervisory attention, for me to undergo this experience.

Refreshed by this, I was able to contemplate a little journey with ma belle chauffeuse to the garden centre at Otley, where we were able to replenish our stocks of wild bird feed etc. Helen managed to find some bags of polished pebbles, for use in the service tomorrow, before we visited the pet shop/aquaria section. We were totally captivated by a selection of Hermann’s Tortoises, tiny creatures a mere three to four months old, in a vivarium just inside the door. We enquired about their care requirements, and estimated the price for a properly equipped vivarium, in which they would spend substantial amounts of their time until they were 5 years old. The problem was going to be whether we had sufficient space to house them and, unfortunately, the answer seems to be in the negative as it would entail us having to move out our large aquarium, or the TV and video. I was quite fancying having my toes nipped, as we let them out for a bit of free range roaming in the sitting room.

Anyway, the time spent observing them, and sundry reptiles, served to brighten my outlook on life. It’s nice to find positivity restored, even though my spectacles have lenses that are cloudy and shattered, rather than rose-tinted. Life can be truly wonderful, warts and all, and I rejoice in this day the Lord has made.

The variegated dance of life

Oh, the bliss … a wonderful return to the almost normal disrupted sleep pattern. The cocktail, of anti-inflammatories and analgesics, has finally started to kick in and, my traditional mode of randomly disrupted bouts of sleep feels just great! What a contrast to the sleep disrupted pattern of acutely pained wakefulness.

The staircase now proves less of an obstacle, more of a routine; the exercise has been honed to a fine art of stick and handrail assisted good leg lead on the ascent, pained leg lead for the descent. My hobbling around, within the confines of the house, is an altogether less excruciating experience; I occasionally manage to maintain an upright posture, as opposed to a crooked one, during these ambulations.

The dance of life maintains an endless fascination. I rejoice in this day the Lord has made!

Walking In The Light

And in this day the Lord has made, Malcolm contentedly rejoices. To enjoy a slow emergence into day, blissfully wrapped in my beloved’s embrace is always special and, being the weekend, there’s a bit more opportunity to share this precious time. Weekdays, Helen has frequently departed the duvet realm at an hour when my consciousness has not quite eluded the arms of Morpheus.

Later in the day, I shared the celebratory postings of a special person who has regained control of her own life.

Wherever there is light, apart from in a void, it casts a shadow; sometimes we need a helping hand to adjust the angle of the light, ensuring that the shadow is thrown well behind us!