Tag: home

Getting Creative Again- Making and Photographing Driftwood Sculptures.

26/10/16

img_2926Yesterday evening as the sun was setting we went for a drive to Largo. It was where we spent a lovely Christmas & New Year in a rented cottage after the roof came in up here.  I have fond memories of us all three, running along the beach. Kato skipping over the huge rocks like a mountain goat, when in other places he could trip on a pebble.  My partner and I hand in hand walking along the sand.

I have a photo I took of them when I wrote Happy New Year in the sand on the beach when the tide was out. Yesterday was different, I wrote a tribute to our Kato in the sand as the sun had gone down and the houses in the background were lit up like Christmas. We still walked hand in hand and combed the beach for driftwood.  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it, but I felt like being creative.

So this afternoon, with a couple of hours to spare, I decided that I would make beach combed sculptures. You know the type that rely upon gravity to hold them into place.  Inspired by the stone sculptures held together just by their position in river beds, with the water gushing past.

We have a wonderful brook alongside our house, my partner built it for me and lined it with stones, so that Kato could play safely in the water of what was once a mosquito infested ditch. It is now a pretty stream thanks to his efforts.

So I set about positioning the driftwood and a few beach pebbles that we collected yesterday, I also found a few interesting shells.

I wondered how I would leave them, but knew that I would have to photograph them.  The mantelpiece seemed like the perfect place.  It is a stained hardwood top with a rough plastered white painted chimney breast behind it, which I thought might make a good backdrop.  Unfortunately I didn’t do this until the evening, so the only light in here is from an overhead bulb which created some shadows which I wasn’t always grateful for.  However generally I was pleased with the end result.

The one thing that was unexpected was that it got the imagination going, I could the shapes like animals in the wood, an alligator, a sheep, a whale, a Dragon, can you see any of them too?

I thought I saw a wolf,  a man showing you something inside a hole and some strange sea creature.

I saw a strange lizard and there is a shell, which has almost worn away, which has a small pebble firmly lodged inside it.

I left the sand on the shells and the logs, the logs were still damp from the beach and were drying out when I brought them back.  I tried to Balance some and was intrigued by the wormholes.

This was my drift pile before I assembled them, pretty uninspiring and it’s surprising what you can do when you make the effort.

The photos below were just the same one piece of driftwood.

When I came to position the stones, I hung them precariously over the edge, they did not fall, I stood a family on the top, I imagined a mother, a father and a dog, at first it looked a little like the third person, but I repositioned it to better signify our family.

I looked at the father stone, a close up of this showed a mournful face, as though crying out. It signified to me the grief Kato’s Dad has experienced in the past three months since we lost him.

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It’s strange how the imagination can bring emotions to the fore.  As we have almost come to the end of our break here, we are not looking forward to returning South. It has been hard to be in our house without our Little Bear here in the flesh, remembering all of the things that previously we enjoyed as a family here.  But, we are planning things for our future however long or short that may be.  We are planning a future in Scotland.  More time spent with the friends we have made there, would be a blessing.  We have met some lovely people on this trip, spent time with old friends who have been pleased to see us and made some new ones along the way.

The Daily Post – Rearrange

Unwelcome Visitors. A frightening experience and a clear message.

Although this was written some months ago, 19/6/16 I felt that it was time to post it, since it was Halloween last night and the battle continues. The Daily Post – Eerie
Who are you?
What makes you think that I am an available vessel which you can enter?
You cannot occupy me. I am not for rent. Go away, Be Gone!

You cannot creep up on me, whilst I sleep, getting past my furry protector and wrap your arms around me, from behind holding me so tightly that I cannot escape. Burning under my skin, undetected stifling my scream so that it cannot escape. My mind screaming out louder and louder as I am brought to my senses by it but where there is no voice, willing it to stop.
You have no right to do this! To haunt my night and my thoughts. Who are you?
How dare you attempt to violate my sleep, leaving me fearful of the dark. You are not welcome here, be gone, vanish to where you came from. Return there, never to visit again, for you are not welcome here.
Get off my back, I will not bend to your will. I will remove myself from this burden, it has no hold over me.
I am not consumed by whatever this is. It does not belong here and whatever this is, is unwelcome.
I am safe, safe from this influence, I am calm. I am protected.
Whatever you are, my fire breathing dragon will set you free.
My body will not hold you, you have no place here within me.
My loved ones have my back, it is not yours to take. There is no room for a monkey on it.
I will not be swallowed up by anger, or hate, or confusion, or sickness.
My mind and body is safe. Not a haven for you, but for me where my good thoughts reign and are given space to grow. The results are beautiful and appreciated, not gnarled twisted and bitter.
There is no room for hate. I do not allow it space in my heart or mind.
Be gone Hate, there is no place for you here.

Whoever you are and whatever you are trying to achieve here, you have failed! Give up, Do not try any more, your attempts will be futile, you will fail every time because I am stronger now, than ever before. You cannot master me.
I choose my master, with care and love he does not control me, he loves, cherishes and supports me. Offering me strength and armour from influences like you.
So be gone, Back from whence you came.
Your cold hands, peeled from me, you cannot enter and take a hold. No fingers entwine around my chest, no embrace around my shoulders, for there is no room for you here. We are not available for rent or occupation. I am in control of my destiny, you have no say or influence.
Demons diminished, spirits be gone. Stop knocking at my window. Your time has passed, there is no room. I am not under attack, you will not win here, I will battle against you. So be gone, you are not welcome.

 

Days like These and Remaining Independent

 

11062706_10154122837704517_7428223558496551676_nThere’s something about days like these, being in a rural location that makes you feel cold to the bone. It’s damp in our house and in a stone cottage where on this trip we have brought with us an oil fired heater which was keeping the chill off, we were feeling rather pleased that it was working.  On a freezing cold night, we are now able to keep warm in two rooms.  I am also extremely grateful that I have the gas cooker in the caravan.  It’s a really old caravan and it leaks and is damp, but it has its’ cosy moments.

Today there is something wrong with the electric. It has been on less than half speed since we awoke there must be a problem up in the fields somewhere. The caravan fused last night, which meant that we had an impromptu candlelit dinner in there.  I was just pleased that there was power left in the house, but today nothing was running right. 20 minutes to boil a kettle and despite the heater being left on all day, the room was still cold and chilly. We wondered if any other homes were suffering but the neighbour is not around so we cannot ask him. So as I prepped dinner tonight, a Thai Chicken Curry to warm us up, suddenly the cavalry arrive here, lights ablaze on their team of vehicles, called by our neighbour who returned home to a cold house. We both have very dim lights.  At first we thought that the bulbs might be on their way out, but since they are the old incandescent ones, they either work or they don’t.

So Scottish Power arrived at about 9pm, to head over the hills to investigate a cabling problem, we were all at half speed so it seemed.

Grateful for the logs, gas bottles and candles I have in the house along with the bottled drinking water and our washing water.  Yes we are basic here, but pretty self sufficient for a night at least. The guys worked through the night, cutting all power to our homes from 11pm. Back on by 7am they let us know before heading back down the hill. We were very relieved that we could get the oil fire back on again to warm it up.

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So today we are back to normal again and since I only brought the electric chainsaw with us on this trip, I am relieved as I will have to cut wood again in a couple of days, to actually fit on the fire. Our logs were hastily cut from trees which had fallen in storms in the past couple of years, all sections are about a foot high and anything up to 2 feet across and were not logged at the time.  They have dried in large pieces and now need to be split.  We tried a small hand splitter, a large axe, a small hand axe and we only have the small chainsaw left here to try.  My partner tried it the other day, but his old injuries along with the new ones have been playing him up and have left him sore. So it will finally be my turn to try, I have the kit for working outside, chainsaw helmet, muffs, gloves, trousers and rigger boots.  I am sure that with his guidance I’ll be able to do it.  When I get the hang of using the small one, then I can move onto the big one next time.  But for now this will have to do for us.

Something occurred to me yesterday morning though, if all the big strong men up here get their logs delivered and pose with their axes for their women, then there is probably a reason or two why.  I will leave you to come to your own conclusions there.

Our neighbour has a bandsaw and a huge pile of perfectly sawn logs.  They are outside ready for winter and he has moved them outside his back door for ease of use when needed.  When the power was down, my partner commented that it must be lovely and warm in there with his new log burner going. He was a little bit shocked when he was informed that despite having it fitted over a year ago, that the man still has not yet used it. That “it was a very messy business using this one, and all the instructions are in Italian.”  As my partner says, that was three reasons.  Remembering the other neighbour with his wood delivery my response was My God, is it all for show up here?

How difficult is it to light a fire for goodness sake?

I guess some people are not blessed with either common sense or practicality.

I don’t know why the mess of a log fire should bother him, he is a wealthy man who has people to clean and pick up after him.

So when there was not enough power to pump his oil fired heating around his house rather than put on a coat to come outside and speak to the men from the power company, he stood in the icy cold in his sweater. He did not figure out how to use his log burner and would rather sit indoors moaning that it was cold.

“He’d cut off his nose to spite his face” as my grandparents used to say…

We did have some light it was so dim that it was little more than candlelight and it wouldn’t even power the fan heater, or the electric blanket on the bed. We put on extra layers, extra logs on the fire and can boil a kettle on the gas in the caravan if need be. Although everything took twice the time to achieve it didn’t much matter to us, we were not on a schedule, however for the folk who are, it must have driven them crazy.

Going Native

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The Back Garden…

 

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From the Front Step.

This is our view as we arrived at the cottage. It’s overgrown, more so than last year when we arrived midsummer I think, but it will soon die back again and we won’t have time to clear it all on this short trip.

But we are home.  I wonder how long it will be before we have gone native.  It used to take Kato about 24 hours, before he got used to the sights and sounds around him.  A huge sleep in our house and out to his favourite spot to look at the view, followed by a walk around the perimeter.  Figuring out what had changed whilst he was away.

This time it was just us walking about. We opened the house up and got the luggage in made a cup of coffee and sat out on the step. Looking at his favourite spot.

Suddenly my partner jumped up, come on. It’s time.  He got the ashes we had saved for the purpose and we stood by his favourite spot and said Welcome Home our Darling Boy, you will always have a part of you in Scotland as we scattered them to the wind.  I prayed that he would be happy to be here, that he would now rest wherever he wished to be and that we would still feel his presence whenever we needed to.  We wiped away tears, as we have done every day since then as we spend time here, it hasn’t got any easier for us that he is no longer here.

He is in our thoughts constantly. I guess that we are still in grief for our boy, despite our attempts at carrying on.

So, about going native…

How long did it take? Well we still felt like holiday makers for a couple of days, we got supplies from the shops and funny looks because our accents are so different coming from the south.  But within about 24 hours, a few of the local phrases and the hint of an accent had begun to creep into the vocabulary.

The water up here is different in taste. The air is clearer and the light brighter, but it always feels like home at a slower pace and we settle right back in.

I realised yesterday that I have not looked in the mirror for five days, there is one on the wall, but it’s positioned a little too high for me to see into, so I haven’t bothered.  Normally this would bother me, on trips to the shops etc, but this time it hasn’t.  I only put on Mascara to go and visit one of my friends the other day, other than that, my face has been completely free of make up and it hasn’t bothered me at all. But I do remember to use moisturiser each day and cleanse the soot off at night.

I did look in the mirror yesterday after that thought occurred to me, but only since I had been collecting kisses from puppies at the supermarket and needed to wash it.

I have the wild hair to go with it, but am happier than I have been in months.  It’s so good to be away from the normality, back to basics and thinking about what we use and recycle up here.

I saw a field mouse run through the back of the house the other night in the old croft. It was only out the back but I will have to keep an eye and make sure that our food supplies are kept secure, last night as I sat in the caravan one ran over my foot out from under one of the seats, startled that I was there.  Usually by this time of the year, it would have the caravan to itself and all would be quiet, almost hibernation. I don’t see the point of setting traps when we do not live here all the time, it’s only one or two in different places and as long as I don’t keep food where they can get to it, I see that they have as much right to shelter here as I do.

Meanwhile we are enjoying the peace and serenity of the place with all the wildlife that surrounds us.  As my partner sat enjoying a cup of coffee, a whole family of deer, Stag, Doe and Fawn wandered up to take a look at him and meet him on the path outside our door.

Last night in the twilight, of a beautiful moon we heard the owls as they flew across the garden, over the trees which bend to the wind calling out to each other, life continuing and nature at its best.

This morning, he called me to “Quickly come and look,” there was a beautiful bird of prey swooping down into the field, it was there for a while.  We stood and watched it in the sunshine before the rain came. I always collect the beautiful speckled flyaway feathers that I find, as there are often hawks here, occasionally Eagles fly overhead, but usually the smaller birds. I take the feathers back South to remind me, but it’s good to be back here in the midst of it all.

It is raining again, for the umpteenth time today, we have mist across the fields and the wind blowing the clouds across, it will pass and we will be warm inside.

The Daily Post – Tree

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Grass IS Greener, Ask the Sheep!

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The Grass is Greener on the other side, just ask the sheep.

So we awoke to find the fields next door full of sheep and thought that the neighbouring farmer must have branched out from cattle to sheep. Kato would have loved to walk or run around that field and I’m sure that he would have helped round them up in the evening by running around the field if required, after all he managed that with the cows.

After a leisurely breakfast, (well it is our holiday after all) we looked out from the window to see that one of the sheep had broken free from that field and was in our neighbours field in front of the house.
Normally this would not be a problem except that this neighbour does not close his gates, the field has hazards in it for animals and if the others followed, as sheep tend to do, then there could have been a whole herd of sheep across the lane causing mayhem or getting hurt. Unfortunately the man is not an animal lover and therefore shows no care that what is in his field could cause injury to others.

We made a call, but got voicemail so the farmer must have been out in the fields, so leaving a message, my partner went to move gates so that it couldn’t get any further. The sheep stood munching the lovely green grass and looking quite bemused, mouthfuls of grass filled his face and he was oblivious to the fact that his freedom was being curtailed.
He didn’t care, as you could clearly see, from the photograph the grass definitely was greener this side of the fence. He was happy to stay there. Sod’s law prevailed though and later he just skipped back across to the other field before the farmer could arrive and round him up. We later found out that a new farmer had rented the fields for his sheep and as a Thank you for securing them he offered us one of his lambs in the spring when we are next up. Now that’s a tempting thought.

Phoenix in the Fire

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Phoenix Fire

There is something immediately calming to me about building a log fire in our house.

I always look into the fire to see what shapes it will produce, sometimes I have seen words upon logs as they burn and sometimes there are objects which are plain to see. others you may have to look more closely for.

Here is the second night’s fire after we arrived.  I have named it my Phoenix Fire. As I placed the funny shaped log upon the fire, it began to burn and as it burned the fire curled the fronds of bark around it as though wings in flight.  It was beautiful. I did not want to leave it’s warmth.  As the fire roared from it’s mouth and all around it warming the room and my face. It was as though it had something to teach me. That underneath it all, there is still room to grow and return.  Another promise of Hope perhaps.  It would appear to be a signal that I am not done here yet.  Rising again from the embers. Stronger one can hope.

The Daily Post – Promises

From South to North Part Two – Our Journey continues…

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This is the second leg of our journey. Part 2 if you have time, please read Part One and I promise it will be a little clearer. From South to North – Part One Welcome to Scotland or Failte gu Alba

It was 3.30am when I awoke, I felt uneasy about something, I wanted to write this before I forgot it all, trying not to disturb I crept to the phone to type it up, but that lights up as soon as you touch it.

My stomach is growling, Hunger maybe or eating unsuitable food en-route.  I went into the bathroom, tried to turn on the light pull but instead pulled the emergency cord, sounding the alarm instead.  I have never done this before. It’s funny now and he is laughing about it, much to my annoyance, but at 4.45am when I woke him after 350 miles he wasn’t so happy and I got upset. I’d tried so hard not to disturb him and he is such a light sleeper. I was feeling rough, in the middle of a hot flush and needing the bathroom and I just wanted him to leave me alone and go back to sleep.

Make yourself Tea, he said and I had a biscuit. I wanted to write so badly. I gain peace from it but then the pen ran out.  I found another to continue with, why are the pages in the notebook so noisy to write on?

Is there something odd, about walking along a street with an axe slung over your shoulder?

Maybe, but not when you have just bought it and it’s still in the packaging, but I may have had some explaining to do. Apparently they’d rather that I didn’t walk back into McDonalds like that, it might be taken the wrong way said the man who was picking up the rubbish from the car park. My love buys me some odd gifts these days.  For Christmas it was a log splitter and a family holiday.  The log splitter remains in the South, neither he nor the caravan could have taken the weight of it, so he says that is what the axe is for.  I only hope that my shoulder is up to it.

So will our neighbour be wanting to “discuss the pruning” of my tree whilst I chop wood? Maybe not, so that’s a delicious thought and probably why he really bought it.

Finally as there was a full snore coming from next to me, he was in a deep sleep again. Undisturbed by my writing, with the light on he is not used to this, the early hours of writing.  He says he is looking forward to reading my book, we brought the printed version.  He is my Alpha reader, my biggest fan and second harshest critic. The one to whom it is dedicated and it is only right and fair that he is the first to read it. I warned him, I may write more whilst we are here.  “I hope you do” he said.

Be careful what you wish for darling!

Upon leaving the hotel we found that our caravan had been broken into overnight, miraculously nothing had been taken, but with a window out repairs had to be made.  It now looks in an even more sorry state, perhaps that was what had made me restless too.

Once we arrive at our home on the hill, we will scatter some of our Kato’s ashes. There will always be a little part of him in Scotland.  He couldn’t wait to get here I promised him that I would take him to see his Moo Cows and sit in his garden, watching the world go by. However difficult that turns out to be for us, his Mummy and his Dad we will do it. We will scatter them to the wind in his favourite spot in front of the house, surveying his view. The rest will stay with us.

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Hopefully the sun will shine, the birds will be singing and the cattle will bow in his presence.  I know that they will look out for him when he arrives. His Deer will wander the garden and they will look for him. Everybody loved him, many will miss him, his cheekiness and his love his warmth but most of all his family.

If this is his last trip to Scotland then lets make it a good one.

I don’t know how we feel about the place it is our home, Kato’s home. My spiritual place and for our health we may be about to give it up.  If someone loves it as much as I do and can see the magic and potential in the place then we’ll be in with a chance.

Could anyone love it as much as I do?

This special place holds meaning and memories for us.  Our dream was so very different from the reality. It has grown old and very tired, careworn and derelict. Without the influx of cash to make it homely or comfortable, we may not get to keep it much longer. That was never the plan for me, I had two sets of plans for it.

So are we faced with trying to rekindle interest in a cottage that I love so that someone else may do with it as they wish.  Sometimes I really wish that time was on our side and that we do as Louis Armstrong said “Have all the time in the World”

For now, as short as this particular trip may seem. I am going to try and enjoy the time that we have here on our holiday, in “our hoose” doing whatever we do.  We may have missed the harvest, just but that is not a bad thing, our farming friends may have time to spend with us before they head off on holidays in warmer climates to prepare them for winter.

There will be apples on the tree and blackberries and elderberries still to be picked. I may even make Jam as presents for Christmas, or just Apple and Blackberry crumble.

We will walk in the hills, eat takeaway on the beach watching the waves as the slightly fiercer weather breaks upon the shore. We will walk hand in hand. Young Lovers once again, cherish the time that we have together, snuggle by the open fires, read, listen to music and chop wood. Enjoy the night sky filled with stars on a blue black backdrop and hear the calls of nature whistling through the garden.  For as long as we are here together then this will be home.

We did not get the whole summer. It did not go as planned, but we are here now. There is some work to do we will light our Autumn Bonfire at last.  I will learn to use the chainsaw I now have gloves to protect me along with the rest of my kit.

We are not now living off the land as I once wished that we would. There are no animals here to sustain us or protect us.  No furry assistant by my side this time and my plans may become shorter term, but they are plans nevertheless.

The telescope came with us, we will set it up and I will watch the stars with it. The sketchpad came too, I will draw, I may even paint. I will take cuttings from the trees or seedlings back home. A little of our home back to the South to continue on its own journey. Seeds to send across the world as I wonder do Scots Pines or Beech Trees grow happily in Australia, then my friend must take seeds or I will post them to her.

I will learn which trees occupy our garden, I have my suspicions but I am pretty sure that there are 13 species which correspond to the various moons throughout the year.  I will learn from what remains of Georges’s garden.

I will dream of good things to come our way, of finding peace once again. We have arrived at our sanctuary, we have waited so long and we are ready for our time here.

We are looking forward to that now with hot coffee in our hands, steam rising from the cup, mist lifting and the horizon appearing through the fog. Welcoming a new day and good experiences for us, a warm jumper if needed and good sunlight upon our faces.  I am also Thankful for the feeling of pure, Scottish rain as it falls upon me, washing and cleansing the hurt and pain of the past few months and the warm fire in the evening before the quiet of an empty hillside calms the soul to sleep once more until I awake once more to face another day head on.

 

The Daily Post – Clumsy

From South to North – Part One Welcome to Scotland or Failte gu Alba

This post is one of two about our long awaited journey northward. I am writing it up posting when I have a connection.  There will be more to follow:

Having travelled late night and slept, we awoke to a beautiful sunny day in the North. Sunshine and Warmth, two of my favourite things. It was hard driving along the motorway, our first trip towards the hill without our little bear. I’d become very distressed at the thought of leaving him behind and we had decided to take him. His casket, safely wrapped in his bedtime blanket in a holdall in the back of the car. His rightful place as we travelled north. I just wasn’t ready to do this trip without him.

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I’d made him a promise you see, that we would all go to Scotland again together, to his house and say Hello to his Moo Cows. It was one of the last things that I said to him as he went off to sleep.

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So we all set off, packed the 30 year old caravan as a trailer and loaded it to the gunnels. There is always too much to take on this journey, having been burgled, I am loathe to leave things behind and I do not pack light.

We set off at 10pm and arrived in Yorkshire at 2am, sleeping from 3am till 11am. Then I woke up to a lovely cheerful message from my friend wishing us a safe journey.
As we set off again in the sunshine, we hit Wetherby in a heatwave. So sun warmth and a bit of brunch. The West Cornwall Pasty Co, is an essential part of my journey and is significant in marking the start of the holiday for me. I don’t know exactly why, but on the occasions we have arrived there and they have been closed, it is a kind of nonentity as though something is missing.
Their meal deal marks the holiday spirit for me, it is a treat that I only have on this journey. No-where else. Strange but true.image
I ate my lunch as my partner attempted to swap caravans with a Romanian man who was headed back to his home country with his one. Our journeys are never dull!
My partner was certainly sick and tired of ours by then, which didn’t bode well for the rest of the journey ahead. The vehicle struggled to pull the long caravan with it’s luggage uphill and was taking all his skills in the wind, to keep it steady.
At Wetherby we were just going to head off again, when a couple pulled in alongside us with a beautiful five month old Labrador puppy on board. We complimented them on their gorgeous pup and I asked if I could pet her. About half an hour later I still was and as the men talked I told the lady about our boy and that he used to wave at people and everybody loved him. We missed him so much. It was really hard.
The Puppy, called Bailey wiggled in for more kisses and cuddles and barked to tell me off when I stopped. She was lovely, the lady asked me if we would get another dog. Definitely and Soon, I said. We were just waiting for the right time and the right dog again. We climbed back in the car and headed off up the motorway in the sunshine.

Kato would have loved this journey, thoughts of “Are you OK Fluffy Ears?” rang through my head. I looked into the back of the car, our beloved boy replaced by luggage. It was too strange and brought tears to the eyes.
Dare I tell him that I had brought a lead, harness and collar with me, just in case?
Just in case there was a dog that was abandoned, roaming the streets and needing a loving home. Or a pup that caught the eye whilst we were away. How would he feel?
I also brought a spare blanket, but no toys or chews. I did not want to bring all the Kato things with us. It didn’t seem right, but would not leave without putting the blanket in the bag and telling him that “it was OK, he was coming too” as I packed. Kato always became sad until I said that, the arrival of travel bags disconcerted him and he needed to be reassured that we were all going together. Why he thought I could leave him, I don’t know. Since my partner returned to Scotland in an emergency when he was a pup, he’d always been nervous of the bags.

As we drove along, we talked as we always do. My partner decided to tell me that his doctor had warned him that of his health, further concerns and asked when? He told me when his mother had died. So that was 18 months ago and he regularly gets confused and forgetful, especially under stress. Timing is everything. But when you are the only one who can tow a 20 foot caravan on a 600 mile trip it can be alarming news! I am the navigator these days, he says he gets confused and doesn’t always see what he should or read the situation how he should. Was I worried, Yes and maybe that is what continues as I woke about 3.30am or maybe it’s some other reason. I’d better learn the stuff he can teach me, before it’s too late like learning to tow a caravan. Why do we take so much stuff on a trip, he asked. Well Darling, we don’t have a lock and leave, when we do we won’t have to take it and bring it all back.

I hope that he gets there, to the lock and leave one day. Is time running out? He seems to think so in some of his more thoughtful moments. So, even if we sold it all right now and moved to France would we cope?
Well, we’d have a pretty good try at it. We’d be learning new things together and without the back up of family or old friends I do not know how I’d cope with the challenges, but I guess we’d find out.

Meanwhile, this journey is very tiring for him. He is exhausted, mentally and physically drained and as we arrive for our second night at the hotel. It is one where they know us. We were last here as a family at New Year after a journey from hell back down from Aviemore in the Highlands. I was so proud of my beloved his driving skills got us through floods and horrendous situations, over mountain tracks and crumbling roads. It was a scary journey for us all and the dog had nightmares, he was frightened and so was I at times and yet we put our trust in him and he got us through it with our trailer making it to safety. It’s supposed to get easier not more difficult in time. We were so relieved to be safe that at New Year, we celebrated that we had made it, exhausted but safe with a tipple and that we were all alive and together, letting our friends and family know. It was all that mattered to us.

This time as we arrived, I told the night porter that we had lost our boy. She remembered him and had wondered where he was. I didn’t go into all the details, it was hard enough and I chose to tell her when my partner went to the car for something. He came back and tried to tell her and got upset.

Once in our room, he said to me, “This journey is so hard” Yes, I said “without him it feels strange”, Yes. I do not know what we will be like when we reach our house. The usual hotel room has something missing. He’s large and furry and usually bouncing around the room at this point, having had a huge drink, a big cuddle and is so pleased to be out of the car, delighting in the knowledge that tomorrow we will reach our destination. His House!
But this room is empty, the holdall is in the room with us, I could not leave it in the car another night. I could not sleep for worrying that someone might take him, it was one of the things that my partner had said to me when I said we had to bring him. So our boy is here with us. I did not get to kiss his casket, have our goodnights before we fell asleep. Yes I have things on my mind these early hours, it is worry that our belongings are safe in the caravan in the car park, but heartache and loss which keeps me awake tonight. My digestion is off track, I did not drink enough fluid on the trip, none of us do.

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Summer Reflection

Well, as the warmer weather is still with us and we have sunny days, isn’t it technically still Summer, after all the clocks haven’t gone forward yet, casting us into darkness mid-afternoon.

But I am taking the time now to reflect upon the Summer, which this year should have been great, but really wasn’t.

The past two months have been harder than I ever thought possible and at the moment there is no let up, no sign of Hope, (she is still firmly under the tarpaulin and again has not been driven) whilst these shenanigans continue. But hoping that things will change is clearly not enough to make that happen. I have pulled myself every which way to try and make things better.

In my mind at the beginning of Summer, I was looking forward to the Sunshine and making things happen, plans for the future. I was going to finish my book, publish it, write another or at least a large chunk of it. My mind was working, I was inspired by things around me, open to opportunities and new experiences. I was looking forward to a great future and felt that I had been able to let go of the past which had haunted me for so long. I had turned a corner. I have a family who love me. We would go to Scotland and spend some time there for the first time in months. Walk my Beloved Boy on the beaches and in the forests nearby and also enjoy some of the sunshine here before we went. Once there, I would make repairs to the cottage and try and fix it up a bit, to halt the decay slightly, I might even get the log burner fitted before winter and stop the damp from a leaky roof. I would also apply for work and see if I could get myself another job to cover the bills for when I came home.
I was out taking photographs again, enjoying the space around here and time with family, I even got some shots that I was pretty happy with and was looking forward to getting a whole lot more of them.

I had spent time getting the garden here under control, watered and it was thriving, rewarding me with beautiful flowers and plants and a peaceful place in which we could all relax and enjoy the nature around us. I love getting my hands dirty and awaiting the outcome of my labours out there. Here it is only a small garden, so easy to maintain and shows quick results in whatever work you put in. It gives my mind time to unravel anything which is complicating it, that it doesn’t understand or just needs time to digest and I am not sitting around doing nothing.

Doesn’t that sound simple and idyllic?
I only wish it had panned out that way….

In July, I had applied for some really good jobs my fate was in their hands, they were all ones which I could have done easily, some of which I would have really enjoyed. I was also writing daily at least something, a lot of poetry and other things too. Not all of it posted here, some was for the book of Poetry, some for another book I was working on and I was trying to expand a website which had lain dormant for too long, to turn it into a more of a lifestyle website. I was feeling hopeful about the future and finished my book of poetry in early July, the Blog here was gathering momentum and followers and I was generally happy in my little life. We were looking forward to the rest of Summer and our lives and thought about different options going ahead, what we would change and what that would bring. All positive things, Life was mostly feeling good.

And then….

Suddenly our world was turned upside down.

Alas just as the good things were supposed to happen life went more wrong than any of us could have expected. And, what is worse is that I haven’t been able to put it right yet.

For those who are wondering what on earth I am talking about although it is covered in my previous posts. In short there have been problems with a neighbour who has made threats to our lives, attempts upon them and the loss of our beloved boy through sudden illness caused by poisoning as it turned out, oh and I also had a brief time in Hospital and a long recovery, which continues. Although we have tried to, we have not been able to shake off the doom whilst we remain at our home here in the South and we have had the getaways, but it has not been safe for us to decamp in case the man concerned decides to carry out the other threats upon our property whilst we are gone. The pressure of having to search for work was taken away by a 13 week respite due the accident and recovery and because of what has been happening here, right when I needed to be away to get through the trauma of what has happened, I cannot. I needed rest and recuperation, but have been unable to have either, unable to sleep and in fear of my life. So instead the onslaught continues.

Although I am working on that, they say that the pen is mightier than the sword….
I hope that they are right, I have been corresponding with so many departments that my head is in a spin and I can only hope that my call to action has been heard. It was all quiet on the western front up until last week, but finally it seems that they have taken on board what has happened. All the police reports and maybe some of the other neighbours have also decided to speak about what has been happening here. I wrote a letter to my neighbours last week, explaining what had happened here, asking them to be vigilant and to report any issues to the authorities. They should not be living in fear caused by one or two people who have chosen to terrorise the neighbourhood. From it all, the neighbours have actually been more friendly towards us, stopping to talk and attempting to be supportive.

We are adamant that we will get away to Scotland at least for a small break, I have four weeks until I am expected back to look for work, yes a whole nine weeks have been wasted of this time, which could have been spent somewhere beautiful, pulling our lives back together. Not spent looking over our shoulder every time we leave the house. Not having to fit CCTV to our house to protect it, not having to visit the shrine of our boy every morning in tears wondering why this happened and if someone will have desecrated it again. Not having to follow each other like sheep, to watch each other‘s back so that this one person can take a run at us and stab us.
We have been kidding ourselves that it will make a difference that we are in pairs, he knows that he is invincible, in his head he can do what he likes, the police in general remain powerless, they can only take him away and incarcerate him for short periods, then he is back. Looking for the next opportunity, we are not safe outside of our home and the stress this has caused has affected the health of both of us, in mind and body over the past two months.

So Meanwhile our lives have been put on hold, the things that we would normally be doing around here, have not been done. Our time is spent with the authorities, giving statements and having meetings about what he has chosen to do to us. We are told not to speak to him, meanwhile at will he can stand across the street yelling all kinds of verbal abuse, making all kinds of threats and we are expected to do nothing at all in response, to just walk away and ignore him.
For the first few times this happens, you can ignore him, not take it seriously, but when he runs at you with a knife and you realise that it isn’t just the rantings of a disturbed human, he actually means to cause you harm. Well then that puts a different light on things. Your own instincts for self-preservation kick in, if you haven’t run off, on your “In flight” mode. You try and stand your ground, which is rather difficult if you are told not to speak to him. Yes, we cannot antagonise him by retaliating to this onslaught.
In days gone by, if someone said something to you, or verbally abused you, you could shout back, tell them what you thought of them, even tell them to shut up and go away. But now, well we are told not to respond in any way and it has made it worse. It has made me angry that what little power I have to cope has been taken away from me and the calm and peaceful home has become somewhere that neither of us want to be, both trying to deal with things in a way which is so different to how we are used to and it doesn‘t suit us at all!

If as a naughty child, you did something wrong and someone tells you off, then when I was growing up that was generally enough to make you pack it in. But not this one. I guess there was very little discipline as a child, his Mother grew her own Monster and he has behaving just as he likes ever since. The way that he speaks to her is atrocious and she lets him. Her “child” is now heading to 50 years old.

Yesterday, I had some supportive emails arrive, finally from the people I have been rallying in the past few weeks, they have responded to let me know that things ARE being done, to warn me that it is a slow process, but the situation should be improved soon. They cannot tell me any more than that at this point. But at least my actions have not been in vain and importantly for me, my voice has been heard, by someone, somewhere.

I only hope that their action comes before his does. That he does not get his own way and finish us off, before skipping off to the nearest facility for a little break before being released to do exactly as he pleases again. As they say sometimes, PREVENTION IS BETTER THAN THE CURE.

I kind of like having a life, in particular, the one I have had for the past few years, despite its ups and downs and I don’t want someone to take it away from me. As a kind lady reassured me a couple of weeks ago…

I still have things to do on this earth and my time is not up.

The Daily Post – Fragile

The Frustration in Fighting for Peace and Justice.

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Try as I may, I am bundled up with frustration at the situation which we currently face.
Following on from the incidents of this week, as mentioned in my previous post The art of holding it together…. Or keeping calm in a crisis.(which is a bit of a long read)

I have been told that the man who tried to come and kill me has been released, whilst I was being told this, he arrived back to his own home opposite mine, at about 11pm shouting that he was back. I told this to the Police officer who was informing me, she sighed and said, “so he is already kicking off then.”

It is the sort of response that I would expect from a friend of family member, but again it seems the police are actually powerless to deal with this. They know exactly what they are dealing with here and yet they had to let him go on bail, because he said that he didn’t do it! As my friend put it quite succinctly, did they expect him to say, “Yes Officer, I am a complete arse, I cannot live or function in Society”

I found out yesterday, that he told the officer who questioned him that he had never spoken to me before, which was a complete lie but thus admitting in theory at least that he did on this occasion. They said that there was not enough evidence. I am pretty sure that in the three hours it took the police to actually find him and arrest him, he was able to return the knife he was carrying back into the kitchen drawer, only to remove it and come back over the road carrying it a further twice, but there was plenty of time.
They released him on bail, but did not apply any bail conditions, like staying away from me or my partner. I questioned this, since I had been told that he had been told not to come near or speak to either of us. The police officer said that he would have been told that, but it was not an actual condition of his bail. My question, “So there’s nothing to actually stop him doing that then” “No,” he replied.

The officer came to gather more information for the Crown Prosecution Service, who are now trying to build a case against him. The two witness statements given and a verbal statement to another officer were simply not enough for them. I offered two letters from a former neighbour which mention that he was taken into custody some time ago by riot squad for using knives, and had returned to his old ways he told me that they were not useful to this investigation. I was confused as they showed a previous history of violent behaviour involving knives from a further independent witness. I also mentioned the neighbour who confirmed for the policemen who attended that he had been throwing knives about whilst she had a conversation with us and shouting abuse at us, just after he attempted to run my partner down, just 2 weeks earlier.

The police officer forgot something when he left and returned moments later to collect it to find this man standing at our front gate, yelling abuse at my partner. Clearly the neighbour did not expect him to return. He searched him and cautioned him again and sent him back to his house telling him to stay on his side of the street and not come near this property. The ranting went on for a large part of the afternoon. I stayed indoors.

Yesterday early evening he was in his front garden, yelling across the street again and mimicking my partner walking about. Then standing in front of the house menacingly. He certainly had some acting skills, that man and seems to love a camera, he was acting up for it. He was also wearing a white chefs jacket in his new cunning disguise. Pieces of a puzzle, why would he have chefs whites you may ask, well if he was out of his garden with another kitchen knife, someone might mistake him for a chef.

Thankfully since he seems to have the thought pattern of a 17 year old and you can watch the cogs whirring, we are able to see things coming to a certain extent, but basically think of a set of circumstances put together with childlike thought and remain one step ahead at all times.

I again notified the council of this incident who I would have hoped had not got their hands firmly in their pockets on this occasion. However it seems that the fence they are sitting on is so far up their backsides that you cannot even see it. A local councillor who had previously promised to deal with the matter as mediator and to lend it some weight when this first began some seven weeks ago, has done nothing not been to see other victims and now feels he’d like to go and visit the man himself for a chat, telling me that there is compassionate feeling for his circumstances. In seven weeks, no-one has visited him yet and there is clearly absolutely no compassion for mine, or the other neighbours whom he has terrorised during this time or beforehand Well, I hope that the dear councillor takes a stab vest with him and I am sure that the neighbour will have his carer present, or perhaps the barrister that his mother provided to remove him from custody the other day. Most certainly he will play his part of meek and mild to the hilt, he will probably take his medication that day, wear smart clothes and wait until the councillor leaves the house and then he will go back to being the monster he has become. I only hope that they are not fooled for a minute, but fear that they will be completely taken in by the charade.

For him it is a fine game, which can be played day in, day out, night and day endlessly for as long as it takes by someone with far to much time on their hands. Meanwhile we cannot continue with our lives or get anything done. No preparation for a trip we were due to take in July and have yet to, since our days are taken up with dealing with the circumstances of his play, or the fallout from it. Does it all boil down to politics at the end of the day, since he is Special Needs. The response which I received from the councillor certainly led me to believe that.

The frustration I feel right now is so intense that I am wound like a clock. Suffering with Hypertension, you tend to know when you are about to become ill and I am about one step away. I am not sleeping properly, I am jumpy and cannot relax, my chest is fluttering and pounding and my heart rate is ten beats more than usual. I know this since the Dr asked me to check it before I left the surgery the other day. She is concerned and has prescribed me medication for acute anxiety. Although I would love the release of forgetting about what has happened and being able to relax. I cannot afford to let my guard down outside of the home. I am on higher alert than I was three days ago, when he was away. I am looking over my shoulder as I walk accompanied down the road. I would rather not leave the house at all, I only feel safe out in the car, to a certain level.

My home here is no longer a place of safety where I can sleep, relax and enjoy being. I crave the sanctuary of the Hill, somewhere I can take us both off to recharge our batteries and forget about the Trauma caused by this  Summer’s events. Or at least can gather my own thoughts into some semblance of order once again, without the domination of this person. I have the getaways so badly that I can taste it, but am powerless to get there. I have the offer to stay with friends, but a night away, would bring fear of what may have happened by my return, so I have declined thus far.

The other day, I was feeling an inner strength which I know is still deep down. I am digging deeply for it at the moment, trying to be strong and remembering that I have a voice and to make it heard. Surely one man cannot chase off a whole bunch of neighbours, well he has managed to terrorise them for months now. I do want to move, but I don’t want to be seen off and leave the other people around here to try and deal with it. They haven’t been able to before, if I have become a kind of ambassador for the local neighbours, then that may not be such a bad thing. To have someone fighting their corner for a change. We all want to be safe in our homes.

A couple of weeks ago, I repainted a bench in our garden.  It is there as a reminder, during the times when it feels so dark. It also sends a message to the whole neighbourhood. #LoveisStrongerthanHate Although I am finding it hard to love this particular neighbour after what he has inflicted upon us as a family, which is pain so deep and personal in a barrage of unprovoked attacks, by sharing some love amongst the rest of the community, we will become stronger.

I thought about asking my current landlords about moving me to another property as they did when I moved in here following a burglary carried out by my next door neighbour. But since this man’s mother has friends in high places who are giving her information, I know that I would not be safe there either, if he was not held in a secure unit he would come and find me, since he is not giving up. Also, I have asked myself the question who would want to move in here, I would have a duty to them to tell them that there was an issue with one or two of the neighbours, so who in their right mind would want to move to a place like this at the moment? Part of me would see this as defeat if I moved. Meanwhile, the torrent of foul abuse is launched upon me whenever I step out of the front door.

I don’t have the answer, I am begging them for something to be done. For this horror story to finish so that we can all get on with our lives, but at the moment I am stuck in limbo. I am unable to proceed and certainly not wanting to retreat. If I can hold my ground, I am in with a chance of survival.

The Daily Post – Recharge