A Bad Night (Flare-up)

The Botanical Gardens in Autumn

(by me)

As the year sets slowly in the West

Its last dying glow

sets fire to the gardens

Chrysanthemums blaze

Virginia creeper reddens on stone walls.

Walking here, nearly forty, I know

How short it all is

How quickly it goes.

Shivering, I warm myself

at the dahlia's flame,

the firethorne's bright coals.

Here I am almost exactly 40 years after I wrote this...  and I will say again how short our lives are now, how quickly they go by.  

The older I get, the faster the years go.  People have sometimes asked me if I am bored in retirement.  All I can say is that when I have time to find out I will let them know.

I gave us both a bad night on Monday - right knee so painful I could not sleep or even get comfortable.  We tried heat cream, then Col got me some anti-inflammatories and paracetamol and, thank God, I was able to get back to sleep after a while.  It is still painful - everything is - but not at the acute stage it was in the early hours.

Once we were able to get to sleep, we then (not surprisingly) slept in and had a somewhat confused day.  Col got the lunch - usually he does breakfast and I do lunch and dinner.  At least both soup and crumble were already made, it was a matter of hotting them up and organising trays.  We usually lunch together while watching Bargain Hunt and saying, at regular intervals, "They have paid too much for that".

I rang the Flower Lady to say I would not be able to come and see her on Wednesday as I had hoped.  I can barely walk round the flat, let alone get myself out anywhere. And I had a Zoom field service session with a sister in the afternoon which cheered me up.  I managed a sort of scrap supper - our Supermarket delivery arrives Tuesday night - involving a packet of samosas from the freezer, some new potatoes and peas, followed by fruit and yoghurt.

It is a rainy morning with a bit of a wild sea building.  It all looks wonderful in the early morning light (as I write this blog).    The sky full of clouds, the sea dark and shining, the waves glistening white, and the tiles on our balcony very red as they are so wet.  And of course the valiant geraniums.

I have had the immense privilege of nearly eighty years on this beautiful earth, in all its moods and seasons, and it is nowhere near enough. So I continue to hope that Captain B and I, and all those we love, family and friends, and all of you my blog readers, will "inherit the earth" and live forever upon it.