annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


I get knocked down and I get up again and up again and up again

So. I was doing OK, what with the yoga, the singing and the walking.

Yesterday, after hanging out with Son, I caught the bus to the pier where we're beginning the sponsored walk, and made my way towards home, noting the whereabouts of public toilets (not many - one in fact, the others are all in garages or cafes until you cross the border into my, occasionally Labour, home city. See - more toilets with socialism - yay), as requested by more than one of the (only partially incontinent) team . The wind was easterly, which is such bollocks - the prevailing direction is south-westerly and therefore behind you - this was the basis of the choice of starting point, yet every time I get out there it's in my face, making each step an effort. I managed about three miles then decided to call my sister and see if I could blag dinner at hers, which might provide the impetus to get at least as far as her house.

An unfamiliar female child answered sister's phone: "She's fallen off her horse, but she's all right. She's conscious now, though she keeps repeating herself and the ambulance will be here soon."

Ah, fer fuck's sake. She is OK, now, but she wasn't until quite late this afternoon which is just too bloody long. Almost 24 hours of frozen terror, for which I simply do not have the resources . She was thrown off and landed on her head. Man.

D'you remember the govt 'drugs tsar' who was sacked for saying that taking ecstasy was safer than horse riding? Well, just in my family - two people have owned two horses for three years during which time the horses have caused one broken pelvis, one broken foot and now one major concussion and possible wrist fracture. I reckon at least eight members of the immediate family (my siblings and our offspring) have had periods in their lives lasting several years when we they have taken e most weekends. Result: a lot of dancing done, a lot of gurning, a lot of bollocks talked, but not one visit to hospital. Just saying.

I stopped catching up with Breaking Bad last week after asking myself why I was immersing myself in such a brutal world, but having watched the fury-inducing shite that is Downton, I'm ready for a bit more.

Grateful for: the NHS, testing the shit out of my sis, giving her a bed overnight, feeding her, making follow-up appointments, etc etc - no charge; the training in anxiety management that led me to keep myself to myself with all this instead of rushing round to Sis's and making it all about me as I would have done a few years ago; the knowledge that I can go to another yoga class tomorrow; a cafe round the corner and enough of an overdraft facility left to go and have a decent lunch - and in the light of some of the things I've read in other women's blogs, I am grateful for the fact that it never occurs to me for a minute that there is any downside to going out on my own for a meal. Jesus.

Laters xxx

10:10 p.m. - 29.09.13


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