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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.
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.
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