No more weeks like this, please

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In the Forest, 2004

This piece is to be installed at the Museum of the Gilded Arts, Pontiac, ILL., USA.

Great to find a home for it. 6’ x 6’ (2m x 2m.)

Here for spring, glorious

3 April. We arrived for our 3 weeks. The leaves were so small you could hardly see them.  Landscape definitely dull. By the time we left it was all gorgeous. 

Quince tree

 

First flowers

Erica’s Cacti and the garden

As long as I can remember my parents nurtured cacti.

They filled the wide window ledge, as the stairs turned, in our St George’s Square flat. My mother graduated to a greenhouse at Valonia Gardens, their first house, and she nursed these prickly things with extraordinary care. And they responded; they were marvelous, but I didn’t care for them. A childish reaction, no doubt. Clearing the house we badly need this cactus space, so most of them have been found homes. But a couple were rescued by Stefan and brought to Poland.  It was winter, though, and during our stopover in Poznan we forgot them and left them to freeze in the car. They sat on the window sill in Stopnica where one gave up the ghost.   When at last I bothered to look, I saw this one had not only survived, but is having babies. All my motherly instincts kicked in, and I am thrilled. Mother would be well pleased.

Facebook stuff

Stefan loves his family and he uses FB to keep in touch and in the loop. As my tiny family does not use it, I find it a bit pointless.  But I check in from time to time and I see what people are making, what competitions they have entered for and won, where they are going in their careers. Unlike public exhibitions, which get reviewed, FB seems to garner only positive responses, (I like you) so the temptation to display is understandable.  Not surprisingly this can stir up mixed feelings in someone who is not making work any more; no make, no show, no strokes. Fair enough.

Bit eccentric.

This house is definitely taking on a character. Stefan is finding a way to express himself. 

Front porch

Display on shed door

We had one of my London friends come to visit for a few days. Great success. Once people know we are there I think we will have many visitors. Certainly hope so, especially being able to house them next door. We all like our space.

Here, I lose Word, (I did something daft and moved it) so no more writing for several weeks.

The story so far: 

A week or two before leaving for a month away, I went to Balham, S. London, for the first time, for a Carers meeting of some sort. I have never been to Balham.  I left the motor bike in a side street, and coming back it was gone. I walked up and down adjacent streets but no sign. Bus back, report to police and wait.

Thence to Poland. We found a lovely Polish lady to live in and take care. She was happy.  We checked in from time to time but all was well, says she. Stefan had to do the talking as she had no English.

Thursday 28 April.

Arrive back around 5.  We did not find a person to come from Poland to live in to care for the parents.  Theresa pooped out; totally exhausted herself.  Mother’s dementia worse, so she needed really 2 people to care for her. T did it by herself. How, no-one knows.   Father terribly frail after 2 weeks in bed with flu.  T goes. Probably never to come to London EVER again.

Friday  Start of long Bank Holiday Weekend. Father starts to get up because to stay in bed, however lovely, will weaken him further. But back starts hurting and continues to be agony the whole long  weekend. Frequent hot water bottles and paracetamol, which make him very drowsy so doesn’t like to take them!

I am to be the 2^nd person for the carer for mother (since I don’t want to double the bill with 2 carers): this means up sharp at 7.15 to make her breakfast, tea for us, feed cat, help carer with supporting mother to stand while she is washed all over. Etc. Back starts to hurt. Repeat 12 sharp for lunch, which must be prepared and ready; repeat 5 sharp for dinner. Every day.

Sat  Father in pain, continue routine

Sun  Father in pain, continue routine. Meanwhile LOTS of thinking going on.  This is crazy. Friends say getting in piecemeal people doesn’t work, for obvious reasons. Penny drops. She must go to a home. I cannot cope with this. I am POOPED. Walk round to the nearest home. Fancy schmancy and costs a FORTUNE.

Monday Father in pain, continue routine. Accidentally talk to a neighbor who recommends another Nursing Home. Simple, does the job, friendly. We go there. Is ok.   

Tuesday  Finally holiday over. Early, the manager from the Home calls, yes we can take her.   Doc comes for father, prescribes an x-ray. Doc goes.

Weds   We go swimming, at last, all 3. Person from home comes to assess. We get mother downstairs, somehow, into the car and off to to the home.  Confusing for her of course.  Is a big deal for us too; suddenly she is not there.  Father sad. Married 72 years.  Police call us. After 6 weeks they have found the bike. Told us where it was. 9.30 at night, we went. It was where I left it. So???? It had a nice holiday in Balham.

Thursday   To the Home to take some forgotten things.  She is happy!  What a difference.  Meanwhile no news of x-ray for father. Waited long enough; still in pain. I take him to hospital. After phone calls to doc it is done.  On the way, to the computer shop to get Word back. Took the guy 30 seconds.   

One whole week  back in London.

Today, Friday  My birthday!  Just let me sleep, please.