The Weekend

We should have been going to The Big Bash - a training session for the Sealed Knot, Kings Guard, with a party afterwards.

The caravan needs looking at, still under guarantee so it has to be done as soon as possible, before the start of the season.

Hubby is dog tired, working in two different offices, he's looking forward to sleeping at the weekend, but can't really, we have things to do. Even not going to the bash we have things to do. He travels about 3 hours a day now. Is out of the house for 10/11 hours. I hardly see him, and when he comes home he's so tired and frustrated with his work, he eats, watches comedy programmes then falls asleep on the sofa.

The weather is crap, raining now which makes me hurt more than usual.  Yesterday I was phoning the Doctor about a Tick bite I had when I was very ill last year that never heals, I have a blood test for Lime Disease next week. I woke up with an allergy rash on my stomach, usually caused by washing powder, and I feel dizzy with my ear problems and blocked sinus.

What an old git.  I never thought I would be like this. 

I thought I would be in my house in Cornwall, and every weekend have friends and family to stay. Go to Godrevy Beach Hut on a Sunday, have breakfast there, read the Sunday papers and walk along the headland.

Saturdays would be spent watching the sea boil around Cape Cornwall, going into Truro to shop. We both worked from our office at home nearly nine years ago, so at least we had seven years together everyday, it's more than most people have in their married lives, and we loved it.

We had great doctors, which I didn't see that often luckily. We went to Sealed Knots at the southern end of the country, we had sea views and a pet seagull and best of all great next door neighbours.

I never expected to be in a Cotswold village, isolated and ill, while my darling man goes out and works all hours.  Oxfordshire may suit some people but not me.  It's pretty, it's posh, but I have never been so ill since we moved here.

I write. This blog outpouring of  words keeps me going. My many books keep me going,
although if you do put your head above the parapet, you do get shot at. Funny how I remember the few bad reviews but not the many good ones.

So onwards and upwards hopefully.  I MUST try not to be such a misery!

 Hopefully, as Dickens' Mr Micawber used to say, "Something will turn up!"