I can't believe I haven't written anything for seven or so days. It's strange.
I went to Bath Spa with my friend, then spent the other days making our house ready for sale. Packing up, so that when the prospective buyers come, they see a show home devoid of any personal belongings.
My bungalow looks like a hotel suite of which I am now, quite proud. We said we would only live here for 3years. Every year we spent here, seems to have been worse than the previous one. I'll be glad to go. We have both lost our health here.
Oxfordshire doesn't suit us.
I have been in hospital here almost as many times as I have been out. Now my dear husband is ill.
I was told by a woman I met in the local shop that the land our bungalow was built on was a
miasma.The animals failed to thrive and nothing much grew. At the end of the garden are the remains of the rectory orchard. So the land was sold for housing, as it was no good for farming.
Since we've been here, we have lost five neighbours. There was a time when I was wondering who would be next. There was a time when I was the only person living in this street during the day. But there are a few people, born and bred in the village that the miasma doesn't affect.
I need to go, we need to go. We already far away from our friends and family. So it doesn't matter where we go as long as Andy can get to work, and I can feel safe enough at home to write.
Just finished watching Neighbours and the funeral one of the characters, a young man called Josh. Nearly two years ago, I attended the heartbreaking funeral of my best friend's son Danny. There are no words to describe the pain.
So a down day, sitting in my beautiful home, wondering about life and death and the unfairness of it all, and my own son, who I love has today I have found, taken me
off every social media site that might give me access to see how he's doing.
He never smiles. I have never seen a recent image that shows him smiling.
I dreamt the other night I was walking along the harbour in St Ives, it was raining and I could
feel the rain on my face. The jelly green sea was rough and breakers were hitting the beach, but I was pleased to be home. "Is this a dream? Am I really here?" I asked pleased, to the person standing beside me. I looked up and saw my son Matt - so tall - "No, it's not real." he said.
The penny dropped this morning, the two things I want the most, I will probably never have
again, my son, and to live in Cornwall again.
Hear that noise? It's my heart breaking.