Grey day

Yet another dark grey day. Fine rain seems a constant. Once more some impromptu lakes have appeared around the garden. Wellie boots are definitely required if you want to get to either our compost bin or the greenhouse.

My spirits are not too good. I’m trying to convince myself to ring my cousin Alma to see how she is doing. She was supposed to be going to the hospital this week to see if, by some outside chance, the chemotherapy she has been having has bought her some extra time in her battle against lung cancer. I fear I know the answer & I’m not sure I’m in the best of moods to cheer her up.

I’m trying to think of more positive things. I’ve got the potatoes peeled & par-boiled to roast up along with the harissa crusted lamb valentine we’re having for dinner tonight. Saturday is our usual roasting day. Sunday is too exhausting as we tackle our household chores.

We’re hoping to get into Lancaster this afternoon. Our laptop caught a virus, so it’s been in the shop having a clean-up. The phone rang as we were just starting to cook dinner last night to tell us it is ready for collection. We will be glad to get it back.

There’s nothing particular amiss. Life is going on quietly. It’s just that I don’t feel much energy. I just feel drained.

Maybe I ought to change my reading matter. I’m once more in Tudor England. This time with “Wolf Hall” by Hilary Mantel. The book is highly acclaimed but I feel a bit as though I’m dragging myself through treacle. I was reassured when I went to renew it at the library this week, that the librarian had had a similar reaction to it. It needs a lot of concentrated reading & I’m not sure I’m up to such concentration. I need a bit of something lightly entertaining, a good bit of escapism. I can’t help thinking I’m glad I wasn’t around in those days. It seems a very dangerous time when you were best keeping your opinions, beliefs & thoughts to yourself. I’m amazed anyone wanted to have anything to do with Henry VIII’s court. Most of the people mentioned in the book, whatever strata of society they came from, seem to have been tortured or imprisoned for a time as Henry vacillated between Catholicism & Protestantism. Many seem to have ended up on a bonfire or the executioner's block – a dangerous time indeed.

I suppose, too, I’m aware this week is the anniversary of my father’s death. Maybe that’s part of my low spirits, although I think he would have been relieved to die & he did die quickly & peacefully. After my brother’s death the previous year, he never really recovered. He was in this 80s by then & had suffered a small stroke, reducing his walking ability, which, as a very keen sportsman, he found very difficult to accept.

I also seem to have heard a lot of PD, our friend of old, in the days when we went to the Pub regularly. His health has deteriorated. I gather from two sources that he is gasping for every breath these days. He is just 64 now – no age to be in such a state. But the real problem is that he takes no exercise & eats constantly so that now he is topping the 20 stone in weight. It’s just too much to carry. But with his mental health problem he cannot raise the resolve to cut down on food & drink to lose some weight. Instead he just continues to find solace in them. Another sad situation.

I must get back to thinking positive. A bit of sunshine would help but there’s not much sign of that. I’m telling myself this gloom will pass. I’m just overtired, been tempted by too many late nights talking to the Fox - & that’s always a pleasure.