30.04.2022 A tree felling fellow?

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 Saturday 30th 41F, light overcast breaking up to early sunshine Up at 6am. My back hurts again. 

 The image shows the offending conifers from the upstairs dormer window.

 I have yet to remove the beech cuttings from the inside of the front hedge.  Which makes it unsteady footing if I am to cut down the conifers. One of my [late] wife's conifers is a very narrow pencil with dark foliage. A so called fastigiate form. I'll have to see if I can save it. The much more bushy trees on either side might damage it as they fall. 

 Some of the trees are almost as tall as the house and have trunks nearly 6" in diameter. Which means a lot of weight with the foliage still in place. Working downward in sections might work. How to avoid the greenhouse right beside them? I'm thinking the foliage will protect the glass.

 Using a chainsaw from a ladder is seriously frowned upon. I'd also need much better access to remove the trees and all that foliage. There are only scruffy privet bushes growing just there. They never had enough light. I'll take those away. Then I could drop the trees towards the east and the open drive. Ready for cutting into manageable sections and removal by trailer.

 First I must have a walk to fix my back.
 

 8.15 47F. Just back from my usual walk to the lanes. Traffic very light. The same, cool wind from the west. A harrier and a crow were having an aerial scrap over the village. I saw my first swallow of the year that I was aware of. A background chorus of skylarks and early wild flowers. Morning coffee completed. Time for the tree felling farce to get underway.

 10.15 Back from another trip to the recycling yard. This time with the privet hedge. That took up the entire trailer to a height of 6' before I strapped it down. 

 10.30. 55F. The first three conifers are safely down. The trunks were about 125mm or 5" in diameter at the base. I cut a birds mouth on the side I wanted them to go in. Then cut through from the back. They all fell on top of each other, with a gentle push, as expected. 

Not that they look very much on the ground. I seem to have suddenly gained a front garden. Not sure how to save the "pencil" while I fell the other trees. It might be best to drop the rest of them to the west. The nearest conifer to the west might have shaded the "pencil" and caused ugly die back.

This image shows the first three conifers dumped at the recycling yard.

 12.00 58F. Safely back from the recycling yard having delivered the first three trees. My late wife would be horrified at my "gardening." She spent years out there. Trying to stop cats from coming into the front garden. No idea why. She loved cats. I had to remove several layers of her net fencing.

 15.00 Third journey since lunch. All the beech cuttings and trees have gone. I saved the dark "pencil" and one of the golden conifers. Felled the unwanted ones towards the SW. These remaining trees won't darken the house and greenhouse like the bushy ones. I can also see if the post van is outside. IT was ridiculous not being able to see the drive. Not even from the upstairs window!

 The blue-green in the foreground is the pro-quality, shade netting on the lean-to greenhouse. I have blocked out my nearest neighbour's house. Who owns the front field. Out of respect for their privacy.

I could do a mixed trailer load. Then do some shopping on the way back. My arms are reacting to the toxins in the conifers. Itchy, despite being washed thoroughly and repeatedly. I could really do with a short rest.

17.00 57F. I managed a nap after a busy day. Nothing desperately needed at the shops until tomorrow. I might ride there on my trike. Just for a change. 

 I just had a look at my gardening devastation from the greenhouse. You would not believe the difference. The greenhouse is "borrowing" the open space in front and seems enormous now. Even though it is still full of stuff. Which has hardly been touched for a couple of weeks. Fell trees while the sun shines!

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29.04.2022 A hedge in time...

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 Friday 29th 44F, bright overcast with some sunshine promised. Up at 7am after waking at 6.00. My back hurts again. 

 Still lots to do on the front hedge. 3/4 of the clippings have gone so far. One trailer full will clear the ground from cutting away the front of the hedge. I still have to take the entire top off the hedge. That will double the volume of clippings all over again. At least 5 or 6 trailers full. 

 It is going much quicker now I have made a big gap in the hedge for easier access. I don't have to push the heavy trailer manually onto the field. I can park it where the double gates used to be and drive away when it is full. Just keeping busy. 

 A longer walk again. Just over an hour. Across the prairie by the spray tracks up to the woods. Then back around the other side via the marsh pond. A cold westerly wind again with sunny periods. Saw a dark hare. Which dashed off. Two Whooper swans flew over. 

 The walk helped with my bad back. Though I'm not having a good day today. Reality keeps intruding into my thoughts.

 After morning coffee at 9.30 I spent the morning clearing more cuttings from the hedge. Then delivered one trailer full to the recycling yard. The image shows the hedge cut back but not yet topped.

12.15 Another trailer full is ready to go. The area in front of the hedge is now clear. The field has gained about 4' from removing the overhang of beech hedge. Previous neighbours made it difficult for us to reach the far side of the hedge to clip it each year. So the hedge has just been getting fatter and taller for years. We inherited the hedge as a skinny little thing when we moved here 25-26 years ago. Always assuming that this was the legal boundary.

12.30  I am starving! So I have stopped for an early lunch. 

 A cool tulip was soon gone over in the bright sunshine.

13.30 Another full trailer delivered. Then it was back to clipping the top off the hedge by hand using the loppers. I had to work from both sides to reach the middle stems.

15.30 Bright sunshine. I can hardly believe it but the beech hedge is 99% finished. Just a few thick branches which need the chainsaw. Two more full trailers should complete the job. I am too tired and aching to go on for the moment.

 18.30 53F. Yet another full trailer of hedge trimmings delivered to the recycling yard. The image shows the hedge cut back by about 4' and topped at about 6' high. Only the extreme ends need sawing to height. The outer face of the hedge will take some time to recover and show some leaves. It is probably the wrong time to be cutting it back anyway. It was not yet in leaf so I went ahead anyway. The experts say August is best. Just to save you looking it up. 

 There is now a small drainage ditch 5' from the hedge. The entire 200m of the shared, gravel drive runs downhill to our gates. So we dug a trench to take the run-off safely down the edge of the field to water the hedge and the trees beyond. Before that it would run past our house and flood our parking area in heavy rain!

 For years the ditch was at the foot of the hedge where it was safe. Now it is an invisible hazard for anyone walking on the field. I had better warn the owners. Fortunately the electric fence [almost] marks the position of the ditch. The fence posts could be moved slightly. To bring the fence directly over the ditch. That would save any worry about anyone breaking their ankle.

 Dinner was a bit odd tonight: A hot, salmon pasty, lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes and mini "snack" carrots. Half a tin of Heinz tomato soup and a bread roll to follow. All washed down with a small can of organic beer. 👍

~~

28.04.2022 And there it was, gone.

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 Thursday 28th 36F, increasingly misty and overcast. Up at 5am from 10.30 bed time. Aching all over! I had better give the hedge clipping a rest! Two solid days is too much for the poor old bod. I was pushing the trailer down the field with all my strength as well. 

  07.00 41F and the mist has cleared to bright sunshine. I am having ever more ambitious ideas on hedge clearance and improved access. At the moment my back hurts too much to do anything very useful. So I must have a rest day. Whether I like it or not! A walk will usually help the aches and pains. 

 It did. Just my usual walk. I feel much better now. Still a warning to ease up on the weight lifting. Even swinging the chainsaw is no light exercise. 

 After a quick shopping trip I concentrated on removing the rotten tree stumps from the shared boundary. It was possible to separate the various stems if I cut through in the right places. The remains were wheel barrowed to the bottom of the garden. To provide additional habitat for wildlife. 

 I finally removed the rotten, double gates. Which I built years ago from Douglas Fir to keep the toxic neighbour's kids and dogs out. The rural Danes don't bother much with gates. This means I have to get a new post on which to hang the <cough> post box.

 This will change the postman's previous behaviour. I should arrange for them to place the post in the box without getting out of their van. Previously they would have to get out because the post box was on the gate. Would they prefer to reverse the 100m down to the house? Or reverse away? This sets which side of the drive I should mount the box. With the gates gone and the drive widened, there is no longer a risk of them reversing into them.

 I had a nap before lunch to catch up on my sleep. Yet again I was dropping off at the computer.

 16.20 I decided to take another load of beech hedge clippings to the recycling yard. 

 I was nearly ripped off by the supermarket. They had a truly vast display of boxes of tinned mackerel in tomato sauce. One might reasonably assume that a display of thousands of tins would suggest a bold discount. In fact the placard did offer a modest discount. Until I reached the till. Where I was charged over the odds by any normal pricing standards. 

 Whereupon I went back to the display and removed the price placard. When I reached the front of the queue again I was handed the difference in price. Without obvious regret or even so much as an apology. 

18.40 57F after another, long, sunny day.  A toast day, I think. Mackerel in tomato sauce on two slices of toast with tomato soup.

~~

27.04.2022 Another chainsaw massacre!

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Wednesday 27th 35F, bright sunshine and calm. Up at 6.00. Aching back and shoulders from yesterday's chainsaw massacre of the shared hedge. I had better hold off on attacking the front, beech hedge. The local recycling yard is open today. I could easily fill the trailer with old wood.

  9.00 50F. An earlier and longer walk today. Across the prairie up to the forest. Where a large deer dashed though the beech woods section. It paused to let me take its [out of focus] picture and then carried on. 

Then I descended by the steep track to the main road. The commuter traffic was busy today. While the gentle, westerly breeze was cold on my hands throughout. About an hour in all.

 Plan for today? Something less strenuous! Or not. I worked on the front beech hedge all morning. Cutting it back by 1m/3' on the outside. Then loading the trailer with the trimmings. Two loads, so far, taken to the recycling yard's garden waste area. 

 The top 1.5m/5' wants to be taken off too. It would be much easier working from the outside. Access is very poor on the inside for removing clippings. I pushed the car trailer down the neighbour's field. So I could get close to the work area for loading. Then drove down to hitch it up and drag it back uphill.

 14.30 59F. Another hour and half working on the front hedge after lunch. I am using a combination of electric chainsaw and hedge clippers. The front face is almost cut back top where it wants to be. The top has hardly been touched yet. If I cut through the hedge the top will drop into the base and make it impossible to extract the clipped branches. I am dripping with sweat again from working in full sunshine. Too tired to continue for the moment. The batteries are charging [again] anyway.

Afternoon: Further lopping continued by hand. I have stretched a white cord at about 6' above the internal ground level. Now I am working to that line for the top of the hedge. Another trailer full of clippings has gone to the recycling yard. 

 Beech twigs are very kinked and stiff. So a cut branch won't pull out of the hedge easily. Clipping the twigs with hand loppers, while in the trailer, helps to compact the load. Beech, hedge clippings are incredibly bulky!

  By request: A quick snap through the bedroom window. The hideously hacked hedge [from yesterday] is in the lower foreground. This lies along the far side of our drive. For scale: The cherry/plum trees, on the other side of the absent neighbour's lawn, are at least 8m or 25' high. I shall try to take a better picture when the sun isn't casting a shadow.

 Once the front, beech hedge is finished I shall fell the conifers. Then push them into the field over the hedge. A great deal of prior branch lopping will be involved. Due to the sheer scale of these trees. I don't want them falling onto the greenhouse! 

 It was only polite to seek permission from the new owners to use their field for my "gardening." I had an agreement with the former owners but one should always ask. 

18.00 56F.  I am too tired and aching to do any more today. I ought to think about what to have for dinner. Yesterday's salad was fine but far too much of everything! I used a whole heart lettuce. Half a cucumber, four tomatoes, two eggs, a tin of salmon and half a dozen boiled potatoes. For the latter I needed a second plate! 🙄  I think I'll go with something simple: Cod in breadcrumbs with baked beans.

 Netflix is committing commercial suicide. Just when everybody thinks they'll give it up because of its piss poor content they raise their prices! Bye-bye!

 

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26.04.2022 The "perfect storm" for winter depression?

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Tuesday 26th 34F, bright sunshine. Woke at 5.30 up at 6.30. My walk was used to photograph our home from a distance. From as many angles as possible.

 Yesterday I checked out another, village recycling yard. It was closed but is also 6 miles away as the crow flies. The same distance as the largest yard. Which is open every day except Sunday. The other village has a builder's merchants but poor charity shop access. Afternoons only.

 The larger village has lost its builder's merchant. Shopping facilities are very similar in both. I might use the other yard if I need a change of scenery. It was a gorgeous drive yesterday. Along narrow, hilly lanes in glorious sunshine. Though I wasn't towing a trailer of course.

 The larger village is via main roads only. With lots of traffic and miles of slow speed limits. The first village was a favourite target for a shopping trike ride in the past. How very long ago that seems now! It almost fills me with nostalgia. The problem is the low, average cycling speed compared to the car. I have to add an hour to the return trip.

 I could easily fill a trailer with old timber offcuts from the garden. Which my wife used and stored in quantity. There is still scrap metal to be collected and taken away. Tidying indoors should be a higher priority but needs far more effort. Which I am presently unwilling to apply. 

 The storage area I mentioned yesterday needs some local, rockwool insulation. Plus more support battens for the sloping ceilings. Before I can board over a vapour barrier to seal it all up. I could get the Rockwool from the builder's merchants. After emptying the trailer at the smaller yard. 

 It would only take a couple of packs of insulation to finish it all off.  Get the battens at the same time while I have the trailer. Which I should measure up first. It would make a change from serial tidying. While providing lots more space for storage.

____________________________________

Yet again I have been waiting 20 years to complete this project. It has been hidden by dark, full length, opaque curtains, for all of that time. Instead of flooding the "living end" of the attic with light. As it is now. From the fully glazed gable end. [Which I fitted myself.]  Now it looks straight into the boughs of the huge Horse Chestnut.

 I am beginning to wonder whether all these curtains actually caused my wife's winter depression. It was always dark indoors! Not helped by dark furniture, curtains and many surfaces. Wouldn't that be supremely ironic!

 I would sit at the computer for hours every day. In front of a north facing, dormer window.  So I was getting light therapy all the time I was browsing and blogging. Without being blinded by the sun on its southern arc. I would also spend time out of doors on my morning walks. Usually in low, blinding sunshine. At other times I would be imaging the sun in my observatory. With a huge arc of the sky always visible. Though I would be safely shielded from direct sunshine.

 I was the only one who went shopping. Year round. So I was exposed to outdoor light levels whatever the weather. She stopped going out years earlier. She found the car seats uncomfortable even with layers of cushions. She also complained of boredom with the same old shops and scenery.

_____________________________
 

Simultaneously, the TV watching area was much dimmer and faced by full drop, dark red curtains! To hide the stored clutter behind the TV! With only the relatively low light from the TV providing any illumination. My wife would watch YT gardening videos for hours in winter.

  So here we have the perfect combination for causing SAD [Seasonal Affective Disorder.] The garden is ringed with huge trees. Of which many are her own work. She planted them endlessly along the boundaries because of the toxic neighbours and the damaging wind and occasional storms.

 We have a ten foot high, 6' thick, beech hedge blocking the full southern boundary. That protected us and the greenhouse from storms and air pellets from the other, toxic neighbours' kids. Not to mention the same, weekend farmer's penchant for leaving his tractor running with the spray bar over our boundary! Toxic neighbours? Where do you think we got the name? Our planted conifers on his boundary were twisted for years until he died.

 The lean-to greenhouse was darkened by lightweight tarpaulins to shield the inside from the sun's heat. All year round! She had also planted conifers to the south of the greenhouse. Which were blocking more and more light as they rocketed skywards. 25' high already!

 The already shaded greenhouse shades most of the [quite small] southerly windows of the house on the ground floor. The last, uncovered window had a clear [soon opaque] tarpaulin stapled over the outside. Right where she would stand at the sink and cooker. 

 The huge beech hedge blocks the sun all winter. So there is little to no light coming through the most important windows except in high summer. The light coming through the few, northern windows were blocked by the boundary trees and yet more curtains.

  The floors are carpeted in dark "Indian" carpets. The ceilings unpainted pine boards which have darkened with age. Dark curtains and doubled net curtains on every window. Some plain brick walls. Dark oak furniture. Dark, storage boxes. Years ago I fitted fully glazed doors downstairs to let the light spread through the house. My wife covered some of them with curtains!

 Even a huge aspidistra blocked the light through the windows in the living room. The eastern, gable end window had a similar clear [but soon dark] tarpaulin at my wife's insistence. That was because of more toxic neighbours at the bedroom end of the house. She hung several layers of curtain at that window. As if the tarpaulins weren't enough!

 The gloom indoors [and out] in winter was literally everywhere. It is no wonder my wife collapsed into depression every autumn. As the days grew longer and the sun rapidly sank much lower. Often with months of grey skies and rain adding to the misery! My wife would often complain about the grey skies. From indoors. Because she rarely ventured outside in the cold and wet for six months of the year. She hated it!

 SAD? QED! What a tragedy!! She directly caused her own winter depression. Due to her very poor furnishing choices and external circumstances. My poor, poor dear!  

 The question is what measures I can take outside. The "rocket" conifers must go. They already dwarf the house and completely block the view of the drive. Even from upstairs! The beech hedge can and will be lowered and thinned. Considerably! Another major project but at least it isn't tidying. The beech hedge cuttings will have to be removed from the field into the trailer. At least the recycling yard is open 24x7 for garden waste.

 11.00. 53F. I have lowered the eastern boundary hedge to about 6'. A miserable thing it looks too! With mostly tree trunks and little in the way of filler on my side. Exactly how it looked when we moved here 25 years ago. Before we put up a mesh fence to stop the toxic neighbours' dog from attacking us in our own garden! The misery to which they subjected us just goes on and on. Decade after decade..

 All the trimmings from the boundary hedge have been handed back to next door. Where there is still a lot of tree growth. I'm not sure where I stand legally if I go over and start felling their self-seeded trees. There is an agreed standard of 1.5m or 5' in the towns. What height when there are absent, rural, property investors? Do they even care if I go around there "tidying up?" They might be happy for me to do so. To avoid paying for it via commercial contractors.

 I just spent more than two hours cutting down the self-seeded growth on the other side of the boundary hedge/fence. My arms are scratched to hell and I am aching all over. From throwing branches onto a huge heap at the bottom of their garden. 

 The view from my bedroom window has improved dramatically. This is what used to be known as "borrowed scenery." I can now look right over own hedge in the lower foreground. To where the view is limited by the trees [overgrown hedge] on the other side of their back lawn. I can live with that.

 After lunch I went back to lopping the hedge. To take off all the small stems which were unsuitable for the chainsaw. I went along the other side of the fence too and it looks far smarter.

17.00  Just back from a late afternoon trike ride to the shops. I asked a younger lady which cleaner I needed for the tiled floors. She was moving quickly as she shopped at the supermarket. So I thought she looked efficient and intelligent. Fortunately I was correct and she was very helpful. I now have a bottle of perfume free, tiled floor cleaner to play with.

I hope it is as magical as the Cillit Bang mould killer. I cannot believe how clean the bathroom walls look now. As if I had just finished fitting them. The grout had been black for years. Probably due to poorly insulated walls and condensation. I wanted to fit an extractor fan but yet again my wife stopped me. We would open the windows for five minutes after a shower. To get rid of the steam. Which further chilled the bathroom.

 The salad making essentials have been replenished after finding everything had gone mouldy. I'm trying the baby "snack" carrots. To avoid having to buy a huge bag of the usual sized, organic variety. They seem to have a very short bag life. I haven't tried any potatoes yet. So I hope they are still edible. 

 A shower was essential before dinner. I have been dripping with sweat all day! 

~~

25.04.2022 Not a chain saw massacre.

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Monday 25th 36F. Bright sunshine. Woke at 5.30. Managed to doze for another hour. Given up on grief. I have entered a low grade, anger mode/mood. 

 It is weird how sensitised I have become to sounds. Despite being deaf. There is only me here and even my breathing sounds loud.

 Half a trailer full to go to the local charity shop. I need a new chain for my chainsaw. It has never been sharpened. Nor replaced from new. I was hardly ever allowed to use it!

 I had better ring around first to check for stock. The boundary hedge is driving me mad. I finally have the freedom to trim it properly and the saw is blunt! 

 9.00 48F. My usual walk in bright sunshine. Too warm in my lightweight jacket over a T-shirt. Wind turbines standing still in the calm air. Oil seed rape is really breaking into flower.

 Spare chain in stock at a slightly more distant outlet. I am severely tidying fatigued. So I'll drive to fetch the new chain. Just for a change of scenery. Which incidentally is gorgeous at this time of year. Fresh leaves on the trees and hedges. The crops are often just like vast lawns until they put some growth on. It all looked amazing and wonderful in the bright sunshine. Sharp and clear as far as the eye could see.

 11.00 Returned with the new chain and some shopping. Delivered over 1m^3 to the charity shop. No thanks though. They were too busy taking pictures of each other to notice I was there. Perhaps they were customers? I hadn't thought of that.

 More shopping, including what passes for a squeegee these days. Velcro attached microfibre on a stick. Still have no clue which of the twenty bottles in the bathroom I should use on the tiled floors. None of them!

 I had a shower and glared at the blackened grout between the wall tiles. Ten minutes later the walls were all spotlessly clean. Cillit Bang Black Mould Killer is magical! The grout had been black for years! Not sure I'd use it on the floors though. Seems like overkill. I'll have some lunch while I think about it. Google suggests vinegar and baking powder. Which means measuring quantities and liquids. I am not so equipped.

 I don't need the bathroom trolley. A toothbrush, toothpaste and something to hold it. The rest is superfluous. My sponge lives on the corner of the bath. Along with my shampoo and body soap. I am downsizing in the bathroom too. 

 We have never had a toilet roll holder in there. She was afraid I'd crack the tiles with my drill while I was fitting it. I put up the tiles to cover every inch of every surface except the ceiling. Which is boarded and I put that up too. Including the profiled trim around the edges.

 And fitted the bath and the basin and the toilet And all the necessary pipework for the shower-bath mixer tap. And all the drainage in the entire house out to the boundary. I cast the new concrete floor over insulation and weldmesh with underfloor Pex heating hose. I even managed to hang the bathroom mirror without cracking a tile. A toilet roll holder though? I'd crack the bløødy tiles!

 The boundary hedge is now cut back as far as possible. I'm not sure about the height. I am too old to be clambering up there any more. If I lop it at a lower height that would certainly help. 1.5m or 5' is supposed to be the norm. Not that you see that height very much. There would be very little hedge left. It is mostly thick trunks at that height. If it bushed at that height it would take back my hard won gains.

 I have been going through another filing cabinet. My wife kept every receipt going back a couple of decades! Hundred of bank letters and statements. From a bank account which no longer exists thanks to Brexit. I shall have to thin them out! Interestingly, they have a "papers for shredding" container at the recycling yard. It has a letter box in the top to stop prying fingers.

  I just sawed down an old tree trunk nearly 3' in overall diameter. It consisted of multiple stems crammed together. Completely rotten at the core. I'd like to cut down the trees on the other side of the adjoining lawn. These completely block the view and will grow rapidly to a great size. Prickly plums or cherries. I can never tell which. Small yellow fruits.

 With no occupants for years now I wonder where I'd stand? Well away as they fell! The adjoining farm used to trim back the tree faces on the field side but not the tops. The farm has changed hands several times and the field may even be rented now. A tractor mounted flail would make short work of them.

~~

24.04.2022 Advanced grid un-locking.

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Sunday 24th Three weeks since my wife died. 

43F, bright, sunny start but cloud and [unusually] rain is promised for this afternoon. Up at 6.20 after a 10.15 bed time. Not too shabby. My lower back hurts again. A walk will always help.

 I may have solved the problem of getting up several times each night. I brought a bucket upstairs to the bedroom. It seems to work. Because I didn't have to wake up enough to negotiate the stairs. To find three [blinding] light switches [twice] each time. 

 I can now switch on an LED table lamp by its little remote. My wife could not sleep without a light on towards the end. She saw this lamp in a Coop newspaper advert and I brought it home for her.

 Too much information? Try heading for the bathroom in the dark, while half asleep and your eyes full of sand. With stuff and boxes still strewn all over the floor. The parallels with my wife's last two weeks, before entering hospital, is probably too obvious to mention. Fortunately I don't need something to sit on. Nor am I too weak to stand unaided.

 Somebody must be making [slow] progress with the tidying. It surely can't be me? The chaos even looks almost manageable in places. Having somewhere new to put boxes down is a small victory. I like the charity containers in the recycling yards more and more. They allow me to shed some of my wife's possessions without too much anxiety. There is no human interface to judge me. 

 The wind has been putting me off another trike ride. I'd have gone on the trike yesterday but for the northerly wind. There is a great danger I could become a cyclist again. Before I finish tidying. Coming back to my self-made chaos would just deter me from returning. Yet again, there is no plan. Nor inspiration left to draw on. Where should I prioritize?

 It was so much easier when I was able to make easy decisions. Between packaging materials and my wife's possessions. There is always another piece of furniture I have yet to reach. Because of boxes in front of them. Three more, small chests of drawers upstairs still need my attention!

 Several stacks of boxes are still untouched behind her bed! I can't pull her bed out because of the boxes stacked on my side of my bed. Then there are the boxes stacked at the foot of both of our beds. Though I got rid of her bamboo chair. Who left me in charge? I have no skills. Nor even the most basic qualifications in tidying! Grid locking is much more my thing.

9.15. 50F. Morning coffee with a toasted, marmalade roll. A more normal time to return from my morning walk today. Longer than usual too. Thanks to the replacement boots. Which almost go unnoticed now. I left the road by the spray tracks at the earliest opportunity. Looping out onto the prairie. Returning, after nearing the forest, via the a spray track above the sunken marsh. There was birdsong everywhere. Including a Chiffchaff in the garden as I closed the gate to leave. 

 Yellowhammers, Greenfinches, Goldfinches and Chaffinches moved about in the trees, hedges and in the marsh.The Wren's loud voice regularly punctuates the background theme. Not a single duck was visible on the big, dazzling pond. A few, plastic cartridges lay spent in the grass.

 I soon forgot about my back. Too windy for an escapist's ride. So I am not excused tidying duties for today. Where to start? All that decorative ironwork is taking up room which is mostly fresh air. If I took every bit outside it would soon rust. Indoors, or out, it does nothing useful for me.

 A trailer load to go to the charity container at the more distant recycling yard? That would open up some more floor space for boxes. It is easy to identify. Without needing choices to be made as to value or quality. It's all going to a good cause. And, if the charity staff discard it then that is their choice. More importantly, I shan't see it happen. Do I have a plan? 

12.30 52F. Whoops! The distant recycling yard is NOT open on Sundays! A completely wasted journey. So, on the way home, I asked the chap who runs a large flea market in the village. Two trailer loads for a £tenner equivalent. Sold, delivered and now gone. The relief to be rid of it all. It frees up lots of space. For her pots. For her boxes. For more stuff to be sorted.  

13.00 Now for lunch.

 On another subject: The secondhand Lumix TZ7 I bought had a protective foil over the LCD screen. This was scratched and badly marked. Fortunately it lifted with a finger nail and peeled off. Leaving a sticky residue. I tried lens wipes but it hardly touched it. Then I tried cleaning benzine. [Danish name] Applied sparingly with Kleenex tissue. This was magical and the screen is now as good as new. 

 14.00 I have moved onto clearing another, separate, storage area. Apart from my own 1m^3 of stuff I knew about. I just found another 1.5m^3 of my wife's wool in various boxes. Plus assorted other boxed stuff [vintage cafe lights, etc] which is all going straight to the charity shop tomorrow. 

 A beech, school desk. Which we have been keeping "safely" out there, for over 20 years, has woodworm. I had to saw the legs off just to be able to get it downstairs and outside. Ready for the recycling yard. There are two "Indian" style carpets out there too. These will need to be vacuumed thoroughly. To remove all the worm dust which has fallen onto them!

 This space was completely inaccessible for years. Utterly wasted space! My wife had stapled white curtains over the huge triangular panes fitted to the gable end. Which I had lifted bodily into place. By myself. While dangling from a ladder. Probably twenty year ago. She said the curtains were "To keep the afternoon sun out." We have a huge Horse Chestnut tree to the west which does this job quite easily.

 She had simultaneously robbed herself of a raised view out over her entire western garden. Just as she had covered the other gable end and hid the gorgeous view up to the woods. She had covered the kitchen window in front of the sink too. Doubled net curtains over the northern, lounge and bedroom windows. "Because of the sun?" There are blinds readily available for this sort of thing. Was she hiding from something? Another complete mystery. 

 I have washed some jumpers in the machine and cleaned the toilet. Both for the very first time but not at the same time. I need to clean the bathroom and kitchen floors. I suppose I should buy a squeegee. My wife would crouch, or kneel on a foam pad and use a cloth. I have no idea what cleaner she used for this job. I was never allowed in the kitchen when she was performing such tasks. So my ignorance is complete.

 I do know she used brown soap when these tiled floors were very dirty. From [her?] muddy boots. Probably to clean the grout. Though she didn't use brown soap all of the time. The problem seems to be fluff from all my tidying. Moving boxes which haven't been disturbed for years. Many had a thick layer of dust. Which has reached the floor. Vacuum? Brush? Use your initiative.

16.00  I'm nodding off at the computer. I need a nap.

17.15 48F. It has just started raining lightly. The northern sky is dark grey where the weather is coming from. Still brighter to the south. 61F indoors so I have lit the stove to keep temperatures comfortable for this evening. I have been burning all my timber offcuts to save on briquettes.

 Talking of this evening: I am sick of searching Netflix for something/anything to watch. Dozens of Asian series and films packing out the tired, old, B-movie dross now. The promised "new series" lies are so old they should use gothic or illuminated script. Or they should be prosecuted for false advertising. YouTube is unwatchable because of total advert saturation. Sociopaths! 

 20.30 I am having a much better day today. From tomorrow I shall not be filling my blog with misery and sorrow and mourning my tragic loss. Nor bragging about my progress towards a tidy [even minimalist?] home. 

 An online contact [a real, virtual friend] has been instrumental in nudging me towards a greater reality. I have to face the fact that neither my wife, nor myself, were perfect. We both made lots of mistakes. We both had our oddities and our faults. Everybody does.

 My loss in no less great. No less of a shock at her unbelievably swift descent from diagnosis to death. I shall miss her to the inevitable end of my own life.

 The truth is that I tried my best to make her comfortable in her last months. My attempts were rejected at every turn. It is time to lift the unbearable guilt and place it where it belongs. In my grief I had accepted all responsibility for her suffering. 

 In reality it was a choice of her own making. Albeit with a tragic outcome [widespread cancer] which she could not have foreseen. She died at peace. While we were alone in our own home. She died knowing that I loved her. As she did me. That we had forgiven each other for all of our mistakes over the years.

 There is no further need to publicly dwell on this matter. I have already destroyed whatever hopes of privacy she might have desired. 

  I hope to do justice to her taste and talent for collecting her wonderful glass and china. She bought on a shoestring and still amassed an amazing collection of great beauty. She told me not long ago that she "just liked collecting pretty things."

 Just before she went into hospital. Only a month and a lifetime ago. She was admiring the setting sun playing through her exquisite, red, Swedish Art Glass. On the typically crowded windowsill. At that point she was already too weak to rise unaided from her corner of her favourite settee. Golden, peacock feathers on a black background.

 Cling to your dearest memories and do not judge. As I have judged her far too harshly and publicly here. To err is human. On both sides of the argument. That which we call love and a long and happy marriage. Is a twisting and bumpy road. I have used my blog as therapy but at my own, dear wife's considerable expense. I pray she has forgiven me by the time it is my turn to go.

  ~~

23.04.2022 The absense of companionship.

 ~~

Saturday 23rd 42F. Clear skies. Tobacco filter in the north. Quite a breeze from the NE. Up at 5am.

 8.00 47F. I spent a couple of hours on the computer and laptop deleting old files. Then went for an early walk. Very little traffic. Lots of birds including Yellowhammers. Bright sunshine but a cold wind from the NE again. As usual, the walk helped my painful back.

 I just found this image my wife took of her kitchen dresser last summer. The fruit and veg ornaments were obviously her favourites. They were actually on display. Rather than hidden away.

 After trying some early, solar imaging, I went out in the car for some tea. [Organic tea bags.]

 11.30 56F.  Then  it was back to widening the drive. By cutting back the ridiculous hedge with the chainsaw. Which needs a new chain or a professional sharpen. The builder's merchants close early on Saturday. So it will have to wait until Monday. It is hard work cutting through 6-8" hardwood trunks with a blunt chain. 

 My wife would never have let me do this. Except to take the top off the hedge when it got above 4m or 12'. Now I have been cutting out everything which leans towards the drive. It keeps me busy and it is therapeutic to finally be able to attack this damned hedge!

14.00  I did another run to the recycling yard. Taking my wife's basket collection to the charity container. Hampers, tall baskets and lots of medium, smaller and nested baskets. Let somebody else enjoy them. Anonymous donations of my wife's stuff feels is better than constantly burdening the same shop.

 The unwavering familiarity of my wife's long term companionship. Is suddenly and terrifyingly absent from my life. The absolute certainty of the other person always being there has now gone. The knowing what they will say. Their responding to a word, comment or idea. The in-jokes which never wore out. The infallible assumption that we would go on being together forever and ever. 

 Thank god I didn't subject her to my wasting away! The torment of leaving her behind. To fend for herself. Would have been the worst hell imaginable. I could never subject her to that. No matter how many selfish, burning tears I shed. For my dear, sweet Shirley to return to me. It is much too late now. I must carry the burden of guilt. For all my wrongs and failures over a lifetime.   

~~

22.04.2022 All our yesterdays.

 ~~

Friday 22nd 43F, clear sky, bright in the NE. Up at 5.30 am. My back back hurts from lifting those boxes of books yesterday! I must take it easy. To allow it to recover.

 It sounds completely daft, but I am finally accepting that my wife will not be making a "come-back." The proof is resting in the cardboard cylinder in the lounge. If proof were needed. I had also watched her die but it was too unreal to properly grasp.

 I was lying in bed this morning. Listening to the dustbin men emptying my green, recycling bin. Wondering what to do about making my clothes more accessible. When it suddenly dawned on me that I had a completely free choice. 

 Our former "furnishing arrangements." Were almost entirely to accommodate my wife's [and my own] need for so much storage space. We moved in narrow corridors. Which are only now being opened up. As my hastily managed "tidiness" gives way to a larger, clear, floor space. 

 After the initial, exploration phase I had sorted her boxes back onto the floor. Stacking where possible for minimum floor space. Not always easy under the 45º sloping ceilings, upstairs in the full length attic. Where we lived and slept over the last 25 years. Surrounded on all sides by excess furniture and countless boxes. Including my own on the TV stage behind a series of ever larger TVs. My own bookshelves and audio equipment only added to the limitations on space. This clutter went largely unnoticed thanks to my wife's genius at packing things tightly.

 I must be well up to twenty five, large, trailer loads delivered to the recycling yards by now. This huge volume must be seen as only the unwanted stuff being removed. I am still loyal to my wife's demands that I "leave her stuff alone." So I go on sorting and use the excuse that I am delivering "the good stuff" only to the charity system. Her clothes and her books so far.
 
 My problem now is being forced to choose what happens next. I look along the three, tightly packed,  but completely mismatched sideboards. Running along one wall of the lounge. I simply cannot decide what I am expected to keep. The furniture was not always covered in assorted things. Not as they are now. 

 Before my wife's demise she chose what went on top. They were still packed but it was mostly decorative and not nearly so mixed up as it is now. 25 years of almost complete isolation meant that there were only our personal opinions on what was acceptable. Was it too awful for the annual chimney sweep to be allowed in? If not, then it had to be tidied between the door and the stove.

 My ingrained fear of marital friction is still seriously hampering my ability to more seriously downsize. Does her entire collection warrant saving for some imaginary posterity? Do I simply place a personal value judgment on everything she collected? Including dozens of curtain rail, end decorations and myriad door knobs? As I discovered yesterday as I finally cleared the space in front of the doors of one of her buried cupboards. No doubt the charity shop will accept them and do their own sorting.

 I keep thinking in terms of my dropping dead tomorrow. Not morbidly. Just as a thought exercise. The entire contents of the house would be emptied [unceremoniously] into a skip [or two.] Without so much as a second thought. There is no family coming along like magpies to scavenge "all of the good stuff." As so often happens in Denmark. 

Dødsboer [dead people's houses] with no heirs, are sometimes left as they were. Though the Danish word can mean that a house is being sold by the family after the death of a relative. With a special, legal status that the buyer cannot complain about the condition of the house. There is no expert report after a thorough examination. Usually provided by a qualified builder or tradesman.

 Our own home was a dødsbo and its special status soon became hideously apparent. Though we knew what to expect it was still a shock. To discover exactly how badly it was rebuilt. Presumably from a former, agricultural building. Up until the 1950s it had hipped gables and was thatched. In the 70s it was "done up by a taxi driver from Copenhagen."

 Denmark must be unique in providing free access to aerial photographs and maps online. Aerial photography was once a commercial concern. These firms would offer the inhabitants below photographic prints for their walls.  While some farmers may have been able to afford a print all the lesser buildings would still appear in these images.

 These flying camera men needed to capture attractive images for their most likely clients. So they would take pictures from different angles. By careful searching through all of these images we were able to discover out own tiny hamlet in the background. Once consisting entirely of thatched houses and farm buildings. 

 The changes in trees, hedges and other details, were truly remarkable over time. Overhead power and telephone cables were once the norm. The wires were strewn, highly visibly along every road. Now you rarely see a telegraph post in this part of rural Denmark. 

 7.25 44F. Time for a walk!

 8.27. I am enjoying morning coffee after my walk. A cold wind from the NE stole the warmth from the sun. Worse as a crosswind. I brought the green dustbin back with me. "Normal life" goes on. A quick shower now before going to see the doctor.  

10.30 I am having a mid-morning cup of tea. Not my usual habit until today. Back from the doctor. I have another appointment in August to see if I am returning to normal. Define "normal!" We had a long chat. I am suffering from the common symptoms of loss of a partner. PTSD, if you like. I have been doing my homework online and from watching YouTube. So I already realised that I was not deeply depressed at this point. Sadness, guilt, anger and loneliness are inevitable and unavoidable. Time is the healer. 

 My relationship with my late wife is changing as constantly as my mood. We had a complex relationship while she was still alive. We each had our allotted roles and little changed over time. She was the decision maker and I followed obediently. Even if the decision was to do nothing at all.

 It was by no means an aggressive control system. She would merely get angry if I did not behave myself. So, mostly, I did as I was told.  Except when I didn't. I became a serious tricyclist and my mileages became very silly. I would use any excuse to go for a ride. Leaving her at home. Alone with her garden. She did not complain openly. Provided I brought the correct shopping home.

 We were always very isolated. With very few friends over the years. Visitors to any of our homes were very rare indeed. Even when we lived in the city. Later we moved to an isolated cottage in Wales. We were far more mobile back then. With trips in the car to add to our collections going back decades. So we had the usual casual conversations with secondhand shop owners. Or charity shop personnel.

 It is ironic that her death has resulted in a further recycling of our decades old collecting. At first we bought things in charity shops because we could not afford much else. Now I look back it became a lifelong habit. One which we took ever more seriously over time. If we went out in the car it was to secondhand, antique or charity shops. It was just what we did. 

 13.30 60F. Just finished lunch. I had gone in search of a new pickaxe handle and some tea. Returned with neither. 

 14.30 61F. I have just given my wife's planted grasses a haircut about a foot above the ground. It should have been lower. This is supposed to allow them to bush out with each year's new growth. Now I want to attend to her potted grasses. I have placed the little pots 4" [?] randomly across her flower garden. I should probably dig a hole for each and plant the contents in the soil. What if I plant them right on top of her flowers? Perhaps I should plant the grasses at the back of the flower plot?

 The pots had all been sitting together in large plastic containers until today. Which might have provided some watering from winter rainfall. Or drowned them! Except that they were placed under an overhang. Where rain would be almost zero. 

 The visible grasses are all straw coloured so may all be dead. Or, just have the remaining winter foliage showing from last year. My wife was becoming very interested in ornamental grasses but lost some to bad weather. I know this deeply upset and depressed her. Months of grey skies and rain would do that to anybody. 

 She was always outdoors when its wasn't wet or cold. Being stuck indoors was just not her thing at all. I had no idea she was so low this winter. That she had stopped eating properly some time after Christmas.  

 17.50  I have managed a decent nap this afternoon. I haven't been troubled by my stomach ache today. It seems an upset tummy is a result of bereavement PTSD. I haven't done much at all today.

 

~~ 

21.04.2022 That warm, fuzzy feeling.

 ~~

 Thursday 21st 37F. Up at 5.00am.  Th sky is brightening in the NE. It looks clear for another sunny day. The removal of the filing cabinet. In the gap at the central chimney. Has opened up the room tremendously. It has completely changed its character. 

 I also removed the small table which was standing [cluttered] against the filing cabinet for decades. The table has gone down to the kitchen as a temporary surface for dumping shopping. It is too low and too small. So will have to be replaced. 

 The kitchen will have to be totally redesigned. Now that I am in charge. I'll get rid of the knackered, old, electric cooker and probably have a hob. I can use the mini oven in place of a full cooker.

 The builder is supposed to be calling today. Two weeks after I contacted him and he promised a next day visit. He is supposed to look at the bedroom window and give me an estimate for replacement. The window is ridiculously oversized and single glazed. So it has rattled in the wind and run with condensation since we bought the place. 

 No seals either. So it was draughty until I sealed it with silicone. My wife would not let me replace it myself. So it has been bugging me for over 20 years. I could replace it myself now. Though lifting such a large and heavy item is not for 75-year-olds working from a single ladder. Though I have done such daft things in the past.  I ought to make another effort at tidying the bedroom. In case the builder wants to look indoors.

 I met a neighbour in the village yesterday and tried to talk about my wife. I ended up with tears streaming down my face and had to leave. I am seeing the doctor tomorrow for a chat on my progress. I have just realised that I haven't had any stomach pains this morning. I had cod in batter with organic peas for dinner last light. Perhaps the yogurt at lunchtime helped as well? 

 6am. I am struggling to build any relationship with my wife's urn. I keep looking over at it and expecting something else. No idea what else that might be. I have tried talking to it but there is simply nothing comforting about it. It was easier talking to the empty house. I could [half] pretend that She was still here. Now she isn't. I had better have breakfast.

 The builder failed to turn up, again. If the idiot can't be be bothered to assess the job. Then what chance is there of him actually turning up for work? Twice bitten..

 The need to tidy the bedroom resulted in major progress on my everyday clothing. All now boxed in tubs.

 I took another full trailer to the recycling yard this morning. Then went in search of a new home for some of my wife's old Danish books. A village book shop took three boxes. A supporting shop, for a historical tile factory museum, took four more boxes. That gives me a nice, warm, fuzzy feeling inside. At least her books didn't go to be burnt. There's a pun in there somewhere. 

 There is still another row of boxes, probably containing books, beside my wife's bed. I can't reach them yet.

 I missed my chance to make a little money on my vinyl collection. I took them to the charity container at the recycling yard. The bookshop owner said he would probably have bought them. Never mind. They have gone now. 

 After a short, mid afternoon nap I spent some time trying to image the sun. The software was broken. I had to do a screen grab and lost detail after cropping. There is an amazing cluster of large sunspots at the moment.

 Going health freak again for dinner: Salmon pasty in flaky pastry, organic lettuce, cucumber and tomatoes. All washed down with a small tin of organic beer. I keep having to throw food away. Because I'm not using it before the sell by date. Things are going mouldy green in the fridge before I notice them. 

 I have moved my wife's urn onto her tall boy, chest of drawers. She may be more comfortable up there. I keep having flashes of memory from our past. Trivial things one wouldn't have thought I would remember.

 Despite my doubts I did remember to take the green recycling dustbin 100 metres along the drive. To where they tip it into the lorry early in the morning. Doctor's appointment tomorrow. My gnawing stomach ache really seems to have gone now. An early shower would be a good idea. Not much danger of my oversleeping!

 I have had some very kind messages of sympathy from complete strangers on the forums I visit. Family members are still keeping in touch by email. It is still too early to talk on the phone. I'll only start blubbing.

~~

20.04.2022 Coping is an uknown variable.

 ~~

 Wednesday 20th 34F sky brightening. Up at 5.30. I have a wet, involuntary cough.

 I have to load the five, large bags of my newly discarded clothing into the car. To be taken to the charity shop in the village. I'll drop the rear seats forwards to make more room in the car. 

 Hatch backs have serious advantages in this regard. My "active" clothes, which, I have sorted into tubs, can go in the bottom of my wardrobe. The same one I cleared out yesterday.

 Then I'll go around looking for more scrap metal in the garden. Which will go in the trailer to be taken to the recycling yard in the same village.  I must admit to slacking on the indoor tidying. My motivation has dropped to zero. 

 My stomach aches have been reported to the doctor by their private messaging system. I am supposed to meet. To discuss how I am coping with my wife's sudden death. 

I may have ruined the balance of the beneficial flora in my gut. By changing my long term diet. The sudden absence of The Head Chef. Meant that my evening meals had been reduced to "something on toast" rather too often.

 I also started eating potato crisps with my lunch time rolls. This was an attempt to stimulate my flagging appetite. I also dropped active yogurt in favour of organic cream with my lunch time, sliced banana. Yes, I am a creature of habit.

 Depression and PTSD can/will both affect the flora of the gut. My sleep patterns have changed drastically since my wife first fell ill. I have been getting up at ridiculously early hours. 3-4am. My trying to compensate by napping during the day. Isn't the same thing as sleeping solidly at night. 

 The body/mind has circadian rhythms. Which feed back to all the organs of the body. Even worse, I wasn't able to sleep during the day. My mind would start going round in circles. Just as as it does to force me out of bed in the early hours of the morning. 

 My overall tiredness catches up on me. As I drift off, my head flops backwards, while I am on the computer. Very unnerving! Driving while being so tired is obviously more challenging. 

 And no, I am not about to start pill popping! I am certainly getting more than enough exercise. In fact I am quite shocked how well I am holding up under the loads I am placing on my bod. I am lifting and carrying ridiculous weights! Repeatedly. Often involving the very steep stairs. 55º. I was suffering from knee pain on the stairs for months before my wife fell ill. Now I don't notice a thing. 

 I still walk every morning. Getting replacement Scarpa boots, under guarantee, has given me the ability to go off-road again. I have already been up to the woods twice. This was after months of repetitive walks to the lanes. Keeping firmly to the asphalt. There was a slight delay in extending my range while they broke in. 

 Getting back to riding my trike has been far easier than I anticipated. I seem to have retained far more fitness than is imaginable given my long hiatus.

 6.45. Not too early for muesli. I don't want to run out of steam. Before morning coffee and a toasted roll with marmalade. 

7.00 I have just removed the black, cloth bag from my wife's urn. She was never "a morning person" but couldn't easily object. The urn consists of a sealed cardboard tube. Decorated with butterflies and out of focus plants. It is resting on an old coffee table in the living room. [Lounge?] A table which she had moved to the corner of the kitchen. To permanently lock in her mystery cupboard. [Now demolished!] Containing little more than two, Vax, vacuum cleaners and some old paint.

 I thought of lifting her urn onto her "tall boy" chest of drawers. Which would put her [ashes] at her former eye level. At the moment she is situated in more of a seated position. She liked her 3 seater settee. An expensive purchase way back in our youth. It was covered in golden peacock feathers. The matching chair is still upstairs on the landing for TV watching. The settee is no more. It had to be demolished to get it out of the lounge. To make room for her hospital bed.

 With the kitchen sink window now clear, I can see her golden daffodils. Glowing amongst the countless, bright blue flowers in her front garden. This is the first time this window has been opened as far back as I can remember. 20+ years? It is far too early in the year for any of her other flowers to be out. A greenfinch was wheezing its song nearby. As I took a snap out of the open window. 

 She had denied herself that view for well over two decades. Due to the "blinding sun" when she was washing up after lunch. Another tragedy! She decided she wanted the window to be covered in a clear, net reinforced tarpaulin. "To keep the ants out." The ugly window covering quickly discoloured and became opaque but still allowed light through. 

 The same held true for the tarpaulin over the bedroom window upstairs. Thereby denying us the view up the hill to the woods for many years. Though in this case it was to protect her privacy from the racist drunk neighbour. Who would light a bonfire and stand around shouting with his drunken mates. While staring up at our bedroom window. A misfortune which led to a ridiculously high hedge obscuring their view. By which time the racist drunk had walked away from his mortgage and moved on.

 7.42. 41F. Time for my walk. Just my usual walk to the lanes and back. My old clothing is now safely in the car boot. The charity shop doesn't open until 10am. Nor does the recycling yard.

 9.20 53F. Bright sunshine. I have been collecting more scrap metal. Stuff which was set aside for potential use but never really was. Some of it was for projects. I was going to build a tadpole trike for years. The tubing and frame parts are finally to be scrapped. Some of my wife's large, metal pots have rusted badly and will go. My Hifi stands are going too.

 I hope to get the staff to park the JCB somewhere near the scrap metal container. So I can more easily place the entire trailer load into the huge bucket. Then I needn't climb the steps to the top of the container with every single item. I'll see what they say. They aren't allowed to actively help people unload their trailers. For fairly obvious reasons. [Damage or injury.] I was told to leave any heavy metal objects on the ground.

 12.30  60F. A second, mixed trailer full taken to the recycling yard. 

 13.00 Just finished lunch. No more crisps. I bought some yogurt to go with the banana while I was in the village. Organic honey replaces one of the cheese, half rolls. Raspberry jam on the final two halves. My stomach hasn't felt so bad this morning. 

  Some say that the beneficial yogurt bacteria are killed by the stomach acid. The trick [allegedly] is to eat the yogurt on an empty stomach. This way the yogurt joins a fast moving flow away from the stomach. Rather than being held up and destroyed as a large meal is slowly digested.

  13.15 Now I can't stay awake! Tried to nap but I didn't sleep.

  16.30 Just back from another delivery to the recycling yard. An oak, filing cabinet has been acting as my headboard for years. No longer! It went out of the window and down the ladder. The gap between the central chimney and the sloping ceiling is now twice as wide!   

 18.15 Yet another overflowing trailer ready for the recycling yard. I am worn out! I had to come in for a rest.

~~

19.04.2022 And finally, home again.

 ~~

  Tuesday 19th 36F. Bright start with a fair bit of cloud. Up at 6am after another disturbed night. Two trips to the bathroom. Then waiting to get up at a more reasonable hour. I use a torch to see the clock.

Google tells me that poor sleep is commonplace with the recently bereaved. As are all the mixed emotions which cartwheel through my day. The anger, guilt, sorrow, sadness and loneliness. All are deemed healthy [in moderation] and must be faced and accepted if I am to heal.  

 My stomach ache only showed itself for the first time as I drank my morning, black coffee. I had already consumed my muesli. So it may have been coincidence. The coffee was neither hot nor strong. I always mix my hot drinks 50% with cold water from the tap. This saves having to wait to drink it and avoids possible burns.

 The shops are open again after the Easter closures. I will probably tricycle there. It was very therapeutic getting back on the trike yesterday. Until I could no longer see where I was going for the tears. I was rehearsing all the things I was going to tell my [late] wife when I returned. A difficult habit to break after so many years. 

 I want to increase my fruit intake. I am reduced to only a daily banana with lunch. I was slicing an apple to go with the banana each day. However, the organic apples are very poor. Hard and green inside the colourful, red skins. The cherry tomatoes are awful too. Most of them taste rotten. Like the smell of yesterday's street market. Pears? Pineapples? What else is there?

 I ate a small tin of mandarins yesterday. I had bought them for my wife. To try and stimulate her appetite. She couldn't manage them. Like so many other tasty treats that I tried to find her. I haven't had any potatoes for weeks. The last lot were green inside too. 

 Perhaps I ought to start eating salads again? Lettuce, tomatoes and cucumber with boiled, new potatoes. Mostly water, a bit of roughage. Add boiled eggs? That would help to use up the large packages of eggs. I have lots of tiny tins of tuna. These could be part of a salad.

 Which vegetables could I face? I eat [frozen] organic peas about once a week. I ought to make a conscious effort to expand my diet away from so much toast and bread rolls. 

 8.00 39F. Time for my morning walk. I get so much benefit from walking in the countryside. So I must not succumb to inactivity.

 8.15 to 9.15 52F.  I walked up to the woods by going in the opposite direction to normal. This involves a greater length of main road but the traffic wasn't too awful his morning. Five geese were resting on a roadside field. Later I saw two deer grazing on the crops.

 After the steep climb I was going to return by the direct descent. However, my way was blocked by brambles at a half way hedge. So I had to climb all the way back up to the top of the hill to find a gap through to the next field. Then I descended on that side. The sky was streaked like huge vapour trails. Taking the edge off the sun for most of the time. 

10.00  The undertaker is calling at noon. I had better get some shopping done. The list is growing by the minute. So I had better take the car. I have managed to find all of the salad components in organic wares.

I was outside collecting scrap metal for the recycling yard. When the lady undertaker arrived on schedule. We had a long and wide ranging chat outside in the warm sunshine. From her own experience it usually takes a couple of years. To come to terms with the loss of a close partner.

 Shirley's ashes are now resting on the living room floor. Though not quite that literally.  Housed in a neat, compact, black cloth bag. With matching handles and a zip-up top. The inner, cardboard, tubular container [The Official Urn] is designed as a dispenser. No, not with a ring pull! The top has a perforated cardboard circle to push inwards. Or to tear out, according to personal choice.  

 My wife hated having her picture taken. So I shan't be sharing any photos of her urn. For some reason I haven't reacted to her being delivered back to her former home. I'm not really sure that it has sunk in yet. Was that an unintentional pun? 

 It would be no problem to fit the whole thing in a cycle saddle bag. To be carried safely to the seaside. Where the contents are meant to be spread on the sea. Prevailing wind sensitivities must obviously be observed. Failure to reach the beach might be caused by an inadvertent, headlong trip in her garden.

 14.00 60F To my shame I still hadn't done the washing up from yesterday. So I had to do that before preparing lunch. My daily cheese and raspberry jam rolls lunch was replaced by one half with cheese, one half with honey and two halves with jam. Followed by organic banana and cream. I am trying to get away from eating so much cheese.

 17.15 57F. Wardrobe attack! I managed to almost fill five 100L bags of unwanted clothing from my single wardrobe. Much of it not worn, nor even looked at, in many years. Since turning 75 I have become allergic to cardigans! Not that I ever wore any of them. No more suits or Harris tweed jackets and matching trousers.

 It is too late to go to the local charity shop now. So I'll take it tomorrow. All the scrap metal in the trailer will be headed for the recycling yard. Do I even need a wardrobe now? I suppose it keeps the moths and dust at bay. Though it's mostly air in there. I could store my music CDs in there. All 65 film DVDs are now boxed and can go to the charity shop too. I never want to watch a film twice. 

19.00  First salad of the year. I had to look up how long to boil the [organic] eggs. They were only slightly soft at eight minutes. I pre-boiled the water in the kettle to speed things up. Organic heart lettuce, loads of organic cucumber slices plus tomatoes. With JW tinned salmon providing the fish. Salad cream is a bit naughty but I need it. Lettuce is too bitter without. My stomach is complaining even more now! I haven't had anything to drink. Organic apple juice might help.

 If anyone is interested am taking 30mg of Zinc Picolinate, 1000mg of Vitamin C and three 20mcg capsules of D per day. When I remember. My psychiatrist is Dr Tracey Marks of YouTube fame. 

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18.04.2022 Seriously flawed but surviving.

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 Monday 18th 33F, a bright start. With all day sunshine promised again. Up at 5.45am after a very restless night. 

My wife took this image.
So I left it up as our screen saver.

 6.00  I have no re-organisation plan again.

 I do have ADHD, OCD and lie somewhere on the Autism spectrum. I can clearly remember having all of these "problems" back in my school days. 

 Nearly 70 years later I still have severe problems concentrating and organising. I lose things. All of the time. Yet can tell you the origin of the thousands of dismantled items in my lifetime hoard of "stuff." The remaining detritus from far too many hobbies. Going back to my teenage years.

 My useful memory is absolute crap and always has been. It always felt as if my memory was far too small and was constantly being overwritten. I'd leave classes without a clue about what had just been discussed by the teacher. Homework? Was there homework? Dates? I can remember a tiny few. Less than six in total. I cannot remember jokes to save my life. Well [literally] one or two. Or is it one? My mind wanders like a sheep on a mountainside. It always has and always will.

 Most would say I have a highly selective memory. I can remember worthless stuff but nothing very useful. I do have some practical skills if I can avoid losing inspiration. Usually the project is part of my lifelong OCD. My wife called me a butterfly. I would change hobbies at the flick of a switch and completely lose interest in the last one. Often after studying library books for weeks or months. Even after investing in books, materials and tools.

 My own library consists of 5 or 6 book cases stuffed to overflowing with non-fiction. Mostly bought secondhand. Mostly "text or reference books" for particular subjects. The sheer number of books is an indicator of my hundreds of pastimes, scores of interests and a dozen or so lifelong passions. These books are/were my missing memory banks. If I needed information I knew where to go. I even proved reference books "worked examples" were wrong once I got deeply into a subject.

 Having reasonably high intelligence doesn't work. Not without a functioning memory. People would say I was bright but it didn't help. I was "always overqualified" when I went for job interviews. Despite using maths, geometry and trigonometry all of my life I cannot remember the simplest rules. Using Sin, Cos & Tan to solve a triangle? Nope! I'd have to write the simple formulae down first before I can use them safely. Do you know I still cannot add a column of figures and get the same answer twice? It was the same in junior school.

 I cannot do simple fractions without working out a simple example first. I can no more do percentages than walk on water. You should not be surprised to learn that I have not a single educational qualification. Yet I wrote computer programs in BBC Basic to design astronomical telescope objectives to twelve decimal places. 

 I wanted to make a lens of my own and needed the exact radii of the four surfaces. I need hardly mention that I built a series of successful grinding and polishing machines. From scratch and always using scrap materials. I have man years invested in scrap metal yards. You can learn a lot from wandering about looking for something specific.

 My optical design software proved that a classic optical design textbook had flaws in its worked examples. It showed that the published design of a new lens type was completely wrong. They had to publish an update to say they had no more exotic glass left.

 So the design was changed to match what was commercially available. I then proved that the new design worked fine but was not as good. The designer went on to become world famous [in amateur astronomy] for his high quality APO telescopes. With waiting lists often running into years. The Chinese build lots of APOs now.

 Being so mentally flawed I had to take humble jobs. Where my poor memory didn't matter too much. Humble jobs do not pay well. So I had to learn to DIY everything. My first car was an old Ford. I tuned the engine and rebuilt it using only the Haynes Manual. That was the beginning of maintaining and [often] tuning my own cars to save money. 

 I rebuilt a secondhand fibreglass kit car from scratch. I completely rebuilt and tuned the engine. Rebuilt the gearbox, brakes, inlet and exhaust manifolds, carburettor and racing filter systems. Changed the camshaft, fitted belt drive, lighter flywheel. Clutch, suspension, redesigned the bodywork, rewired it twice. When I found a better loom in a scrapyard. Built a completely new cooling system and oil cooler system. All just from book learning.

 I couldn't afford to employ a carpenter. So I built triple glazing units for one of our homes. I went on to design and build our own, gravity heating systems. Did all the plumbing, drainage, doors, windows, floors, kitchen units and boarded the ceilings in our present hovel. I even put a new, super-insulated roof on it after a storm. A lifetime of so many hobbies gives me skills I can turn to my own benefit to save huge sums. I would buy the tools I needed from the savings.

 Do I really need over a hundred screwdrivers? Dozens of different pliers? More spanners, sockets and drivers than most mechanics? I have flat, Ikea storage tubs full of them. I have repaired, designed and built my own bicycles all of my life. Even worked on and redesigned a few motorcycles in my youth. It is all valuable experience which can be added to the sum of the whole and turned to a new project. 

 I love writing but cannot remember the plot and characters from one day to the next. In my youth, a Job Centre employee once told me that I should have been born rich. Then I could play with my projects. Without needing to make a living like everybody else. I proved him wrong.  I played with my projects anyway. Despite being working, but poor, for most of my life. How my [late] wife put up with me I have no idea.

08.15 45F. That's enough about me. Time for a walk! Lots of birds about. I fell into despair in the lanes as the tears flowed. How was I going to cope without my wife? I dare not even glimpse into the chasm of everyday life without her. Every sound I hear at home is of my own making. The myriad verbal exchanges are so painfully absent. I am completely devoid of training for my new life. 

 9.30 52F. I can't get it together again today. So I'm going for another ride on my trike. There is a small, village supermarket which might be open on Easter Monday. It's a lovely ride along the rural lanes. They might have some rolls. I checked whether they'd be open before leaving.

 11.45. 58F. Just back from my ride. It was a perfect morning for it. Cool but with light, easterly winds. I bought both kinds of wholemeal rolls. Where the local supermarkets had only had one kind in stock. Only 16 miles but I was going remarkably well. Regularly dancing on the pedals on the climbs. 

 I sought out the steepest local climbs and was hardly breathless. Went by one beautiful route and returned by another. The landscape is filling up with solar panels. Whole fields of them! I couldn't share what I'd seen today. Because She is not here. 

 13.15. 58.3F. I managed a nap before lunch. Now I need a plan. I am still getting odd stabbing pans in my stomach. So I had a normal lunch. I forgot to buy cream to go with the daily banana. Down to the last two jars of the special, raspberry jam. I would order it online but can't remember where. That was strictly my wife's knowledge base. 

 It seems that crisps are highly processed foods. My starting to eat them with lunch, as an appetite stimulant, coincided with my stomach pains. I don't need the crisps and shan't buy any more.

 I spent the afternoon on one of my favourite hobbies. Taking close-up pictures of the sun in my home-built observatory. This is relaxing but takes some concentration. This is not avoidance but gets me out of the [untidy] house. Which reduces the stimulation from being constantly surrounded in triggers to memories of my wife's presence. 

 The clear, plastic tubs are now being used to sort my own clothes. Not the most practical arrangement. Because larger items get wrinkled unless I am fastidious with folding.. It just seemed like somewhere to start. If only to ensure I knew where things are and how many are left. Before laundry alarm bells start ringing. 

 I haven't dared to look in my wardrobe yet. There is so much to discard I don't know where to start. I haven't worn a shirt formally in many years. Nor any other jacket but casual, weatherproof or down-filled for the cold. Jeans are smarter than fleece but rarely get an airing these days. I could go formal for the village shops..

 Does that mean I can donate all the rest to the charity shops? Without a second thought? Clothes can easily be replaced at low cost from the same source. Only if needed. New clothes don't cost the earth. So why hang onto any of it? Why am I avoiding the process? That leaves me confused and undecided.

 It feels as if I am abandoning a former life. One which ended abruptly 25 years ago with our move to Denmark. The entire wardrobe, for UK living, is still hanging unused or still neatly folded. Frozen in time. The very last bridge yet to be burnt? Emergency kit for a full retreat? Do I really want to go back to Blighty? That question feels very weird indeed the more I think about it.  

 Denmark is far more relaxed when it comes to dress code. As a pensioner, with zero social life, I have no need of formal anything. In fact I have no real need of a "wardrobe." I have been fighting with this wardrobe for 25 years. It gets in the way of my computer chair. [Or did, until I finally moved it back] Shelves and a few hangers, on a short rail, would easily cover my needs. I had better start looking for the clear dustbin bags!

 Denmark feels very safe. As far as my very rural bit of Denmark is concerned. I don't know about the cities and would not want to live there anyway. Britain is a nation of thieves. Top down and bottom up. Every house, in every street and road we ever lived in, had a burglary. Both city and very rural. Going back for over half a century. 

 This was what finally triggered us to move over here. My workshop was broken into and my car stolen, on the same weekend, two hundred miles apart. A near neighbour was hospitalised by the burglars. When he came home to find them there. The police knew who the thieves were but had no proof. We never felt safe again.

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