annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Testing I wrote this last night but had no internet: I just watched the film Captain Fantastic - wow. I'd never even heard of it till Son brought it up in a discussion about narrative structure - ha, I'd forgotten that and was so caught up in the story that I didn't notice the arc of it at all. So yesterday I filled in on the Zoe Covid symptoms app that I've had a headache every day since having the vaccine and they asked me to have another test today, so I did. They aren't blinding headaches, but they're steady and take away any peace of mind. It might be my eyes though - I haven't had them checked for probably two years and it's come on later in the day, every day. I do spend a lot of my time indoors either reading or fucking about on my phone and I noticeably can't see small print. I bought bloody Nigella's most recent cookbook, which is written as a narrative with recipes in and it's so small I can't fucking read it. I mean, I can hold a page in the right spot under a strong light so the words are visible - about ten inches from my eyes - and read a paragraph but I can't read the whole thing, or browse comfortably, which I like to do with new cookbooks. I didn't do the Tuesday art group again - I had the headache and had booked the test and felt upset by it all. Sometimes I'm up for it and sometimes I can't face it. The group has grown and it has to be said - a bunch of people all suffering in different ways with their mental health is not easy company. No one really wants to listen, including me, but we all want to be heard, including me. Some of them are quite domineering and can get into a run of double entendres, making everything about sex in a way that I find really upsetting, and dare I say it, triggering. I'm surprised and upset by my reaction as much as by their comments, but when it happens I want it to stop and I want my peaceful art group back, but unlucky, as it doesn't work like that. When we're in the art room the tutor has much more of a sense of what's going on and is able to manage it better, and I haven't felt it so much there at all. After the covid test I walked by the river with the dog. It was a gloriously sunny, warm day - I ended up carrying my coat. I made myself walk in places I hadn't been, including going to see a Saxon church - I looked it up and it said Saxon, but I just found another page that says it dates from around 1250, but has a Jacobean pulpit - there's posh, eh. It's near the river, in the valley between the hills of the downs and very peaceful, idyllic on a suddenly sunny day. I sat on a bench for a while, surrounded by old gravestones and snowdrops and pondered asking the vicar if I could have Sam's ashes put here - I don't know how it all works, if that would be possible. I still have them on a shelf, surrounded by some of her teddies - she did love a soft toy - and it stirs me up to think about what to do with them. It doesn't feel like her at all, but it is in some sense. They can't just be put in the rubbish or scattered round the garden of a house I hope to leave. But I have no idea where she'd like to be. She was more of a townie than a country girl - I remember her complaining that the grass was squidgy underfoot, but that was when she was a child. We spent loads of time in the woods in later years but was that her going along with what she thought I wanted? There's no way of knowing. Before dinner I did a hatha yoga class with the woman I do Thursday yin with. Hatha is a bit stronger, more demanding - yin is restorative. It felt harder but I enjoyed it and managed most of it. I'll try to do it every week as that will be the three sessions, quite well spread out - Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. Three Good Things: Night night xx 1:07 p.m. - 24.02.21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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