annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary



Cooooeeeee! I'm back! And feeling pretty good, despite having all sorts of complicated shit (by no way of a change), This is me - ain't nothing gonna bring me down:

So that's pretty cool.

Shambala was mixed at the time, but now I can only remember the good bits, which were legion. Singing sea shanties was the best - so good me and YD went back for another session a couple of days later. They're all call and response songs, with many short verses and a longer, rousing chorus, created to strengthen hard, physical labour, so easy to learn and exhilarating to sing - fucking marvellous to be in the thick of a bunch of people all bellowing along to the likes of these, though not as fast as the Pogues:

We could do with some digging songs for the allotment if we're ever going to clear the bramble roots from where we want to plant fruit trees and bushes.

Grandson made friends with a collection of other young teenagers, all pretty good kids, none of whom knew he has a severely disabled mother, so he was just himself and had a pretty excellent time.

When we woke up on Sunday morning, Friend and her son had packed up their tent and vamooshed, gone, scarpered, without even a note to say why. This may blow up into something, but I really hope not, because one time we had a two year hiatus in our friendship during which I missed her like fuck. In an email written when she reached home, (amongst other things) she referred to the 17 years of having to cope with my visible dislike of her elder son, and she's right, but there's a bitter irony in her bringing it up now, when he finally seems to have stopped - ach, I don't want to go into it, but it's been really tricky, all this time, having such a strong aversion to my friend's beloved son and I just hope to god we can negotiate our way out of this without having to discuss it.

Enough of that. At the festival I walked an average of 12,000 steps/6 miles a day without any strain, but realise that it was the soft grass underfoot that made it so easy - harsh paving is much more tiring. So I'm going to be doing some training before the big walk in October. Aw, man we have 425 in donations already. I had an email saying someone (no name, link or email) had left a comment asking how readers can donate, though I can't find that comment anywhere. But here's the link if you do feel inclined - click 'give' and follow instructions - you can be anonymous, it accepts all currencies and does the conversion for you. This is where I should give it the hard sell, but I can't. In fact I'll mention that I think the lowest amount is too high and will try and get it down to 1 when I can work out how.

I've lost count of the number of people walking with us now - this is why I really do feel so much better, I'm sure - the response to our cry for help, the possibly achievable dream that we can get my girl out into the world again, her perkiness now she doesn't feel utterly condemned to such a tiny, narrow life for the rest of her days... fucking brilliant.

And so to bed. I'm going to be writing daily again, or almost - can't bear not doing it - stuff gets backed up in my head and I miss you peeps.

Grateful for: feeling a community of friends gathering around me and me girl; being in an energetic, upbeat place for a day or two now; coming home to my lovely flat; a swim in the sea; spending time with Sis's granddaughter

Sweet dreams xxx

9:41 p.m. - 28.08.13


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