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| JUST ME on MONDAY |
Well, OK, that title ‘getting on a bit’ is a red herring for ‘Getting Old’. It’s when the body – and occasionally, the mind – can no longer keep up with the spirit.
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| Me in the VIP tent at Badminton Horse Trials 2019 |
My eyesight is now wonky because of glaucoma. Arthritis in my knees stops me from walking far (it hurts!) My hands got damaged when I had a very nasty fall a couple of years back – so arthritis is now setting in along my thumbs and the ‘heels’ of my hands. Not helped by typing or holding the mouse! The fall was when I was leading in one of our horses from the field. I went splat, and he trod on me… fortunately, he managed to miss anything vital – here’s the resulting bruise though:
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| ouch! |
I’ve got continuous earache – which, combined with the wonky eyesight has knocked my sense of balance for six.
Oh cripes, I’m getting OLD! The problem with that statement… actually, maybe, I need to accept that there is no ‘getting’ about it… I AM old. I’ll be 70 in April. The proverbial three-score-years and ten?
Where the heck did the years go???
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| here’s me outside the British Museum circa 1995-ish I’m in the red coat. The lady next to me is Kathleen Herbert, historian and writer, now, alas, sadly deceased. |
Charles is on the left – I can’t remember the others
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| going back further – 1967! That’s me with my hands in my pockets (thanks to Lesley for the photo!) |
I’m absolutely certain that the lane outside our Devon farmhouse has grown by a few hundred feet. It wasn’t as steep when we moved here in 2013 was it?
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| February 2013 (by the way the snowdrops have just come out this year) |
And who added those extra stairs to the original ones? Apart from struggling up them, by the time I get to the top I’ve forgotten what I went up for in the first place, or if it’s bedtime, forgotten the thing I was supposed to bring up with me – that glass of water, for instance. I can’t go without because I need to take a banquet-full of pills of an evening… Woe betide if I don’t get the water straight away after going back down. Do another task and I’ve forgotten what the original one was. (So repeat this paragraph.)
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| The stairs – before the two cats decided they hated each other (one now lives upstairs, the other downstairs) |
Falls. I frequently have disagreements with steps, kerbs etc. Hitting the ground hurts, especially if I land on my knees. I do not recommend it. And apart from that, I usually can’t get up again. Stranded Beetle on its Back syndrome.
Worryingly, I occasionally forget the names of my characters – although this is mainly because there’s been long (too long) a gap in between writing whichever book. So that’s my fault. I need to get ON with my writing. (Difficult when your hands hurt and your knees have locked up.)
The sight issue is sorted. I have a large VDU, yellow, large keys for a keyboard and very large text – including large text on my Kindle. (I can’t read actual books now, the print is too small.)
Despite all I’ve said above, I’m not moaning, just bemoaning because it’s frustrating not being able to do things you want to do, but can’t do. Like gardening. I enjoy gardening but not when you can’t see the nettles or brambles.
I do get irritated when people (usually ‘health’ officials and/or ‘healthy’ people) say things like ‘you should lose weight’. Yes, I know I should, but exercise is limited. Even when I do walk I can only walk slowly because I can’t see too well. I like my food – I don’t overindulge with the things you shouldn’t over-indulge in. Yes, we’ll perhaps we have sausage and mash once a week, occasionally have a pudding, I do like dairy – and meat – but it’s breakfast, lunch dinner. I don’t really ‘snack’ during the day. A G & T or red wine maybe at the weekend of an evening. Glass of bubbly on a special day, perhaps. Tea and cake once a week when friends come round.
Honest? I don’t want to diet. I have enough restrictions in my life (can’t see well, can’t walk far, can’t get out and about) to also have to do without CHOCOLATE!!!!!
(although I have cut down on sugar! Apart from chocolate. And honey. And marmalade.)
So there it is, I’m aware that I’m getting old. The biggest issue, though, (and being serious for a moment) is the growing problem of ‘Can’t be bothered.’
This has taken hold since lockdown – and I know I’m not alone.
I can’t be bothered to go out. Can’t be bothered to try to do some gardening. Can’t be bothered to get up of a morning. Some of this is because of the annual S.A.D. syndrome … let’s face it, who does want to get out of a nice, comfy, cosy, bed when its chucking it down outside, the sky is as grey as Welsh slate and anyway the cat is curled up on top of you?
My main thoughts on Getting Old, though?
I don’t recommend it!
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| me 1994 |
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| Bye bye until next time |