0 comment Friday, May 16, 2014 | admin
The year is about to end in my tradition, and during our full moon we're going to have the first full lunar eclipse in 500 years. Portentous, perhaps, or maybe just coincidence. I'll allow greater thinkers than myself to ponder that mystery. For my part, a focus upon the material and practical, as I've been doing for the past year is required.
It's been a year of highs and lows, as is often the case. However I have had quite a few highs, quite a few amazing points, and quite a few victories.
The garden was a stroke of wonder in the lives of myself and my son; that we managed to appeal to total strangers and be heard reinstated my often-faltering belief in the good in Man. We took a total wreck of a garden space and transformed it into something beautiful, and I have been and always will be incredibly grateful to D, her crew, Family Fund. Thrive, Gardening for Disabled Trust, my dear friends here in Wiltshire and beyond, and St John's Charity for bucking in and doing the work to allow my son and I to reconnect with plants this year. I may be leaving the house behind we haven't left our love of plants, and I know now, no matter where I am or how ill I get, I will ALWAYS find a way to have a beautiful garden and grow food for us both, and my son enjoys the process as well. It's one of the few loves that we share, and I want to nurture this. What I want to do next year when we've moved is plot out an indoor garden which we can tend together.
I have plans, and a mission, but I just need the right house for it (and one does seem to be presenting itself, pray for DFG to get sorted out sooner rather than later!) I now know what to look for in a new house - detached house, understanding neighbours, safety, and someone else to mow lawns! Again, I've found such a place, I just really need the DFG to move faster. Failing that, I'll move myself, difficult as it may prove to be.
I rediscovered my independence and my creativity, buried away for so long due to the ever-necessary practicality of raising a child on one's own, not to mention a disabled child. It was there, but I had smothered it under school lunches and meetings and homework and Statement appeals, DLA forms and autism meltdowns and eating only what isn't touching on his plate. But it was there, it always was there. It stirred a bit when I was making jewelry, yawned and stretched when making soap, and now is fully awake and demanding of me "What shall we do today?" This too I share with my son - painting together and moving on toward reading stories together when he shows an interest in reading. I've yet to find a story which truly captures his imagination and interest, but I shall keep trying - this is one of my resolutions of the year: to read more books and get a feel for the genres again, to support artists more by buying prints I love, to fill my house with bits of whimsy and Lon'Aite (now that I don't have to worry quite so much about sprog destroying pieces I find dear). I'll move again to a place which more supports this creativity rather than stunts it, and I'll do it whether anyone "understands" why I'm doing it or not. And my mission this year is to not just talk about my work seeing light of day, but for it to actually happen. To make it happen. There's no point in waiting - wait for what, exactly?
(rash on palms which has the GPs more convinced I may have lupus).
However, it's not been all brilliance - my downturn on the health front is being further assaulted on all sides by a government which sees anyone who doesn't have a "real job" or does have a disability as a scapegoat and waste of time. Granted, this means I have put my writing ability into the activist camp once again (and that feels good to me on many levels to be honest), but it also means I have to take a more vigorous battle for myself right now - fighting for DLA, fighting for help at home, fighting for the right to be seen as working even if I haven't sold a damn thing yet, fighting to keep walking for at least one month longer. My health is my mission in 2011; somehow holding myself together with Naproxen glue and struggling with funding that apparently isn't there - though the banks are just fine, aren't they? Life has taught me that the world will not always care if you sink or swim, as long as it isn't happening to them personally. I will keep fighting, but I will not expect a suddenly overflow of compassion. Sprog and I are left to our collective fates and as a result I will have to keep us afloat and keep the wolves at the door at bay. So, more frugal measures, and more concentration on my health and independence, and the equipment for both. Expensive? Definitely. Necessary? Absolutely. I'll do it - for the same reason that you're supposed to put the oxygen mask on yourself before your child on an airplane; save yourself to be able to save your children.
I have a mission before me this year to find a place I can call home for a while, no matter how bad my health gets. This has required a lot of very painful truths being faced; the probability of living in a bungalow with wide doors for wheelchair access has become one of those truths, even though everyone tries to "cheer me up" and say it "probably won't happen", they're not the ones who have watched their walking ability deteriorating in nine months' time. I'll think positively when needed, but I'll also plan for the worst as needed as well to be sure I'm prepared for all contingencies. It isn't glamorous, it isn't fun, but it is necessary. And once the necessary is taken care of, the fun and glamour can happen afterwards. Of that, make no doubts.
2011 is a year for stability - or as stable as I can make things in a wildly rocking boat - and opulence and fun in greater measures than I've managed of late. My son is growing so quickly, I want to enjoy every moment of the time we have together - the time he actually wants to spend with Mum and not playing computer games. I want to reap those full benefits of family time before I blink and find he has become a young man, and I don't know where the time went.
So I will wish you all a productive, fun, beautiful, opulent, stable New Year. Make your dreams come true, for you, and you alone.
Ashe!
It's been a year of highs and lows, as is often the case. However I have had quite a few highs, quite a few amazing points, and quite a few victories.
The garden was a stroke of wonder in the lives of myself and my son; that we managed to appeal to total strangers and be heard reinstated my often-faltering belief in the good in Man. We took a total wreck of a garden space and transformed it into something beautiful, and I have been and always will be incredibly grateful to D, her crew, Family Fund. Thrive, Gardening for Disabled Trust, my dear friends here in Wiltshire and beyond, and St John's Charity for bucking in and doing the work to allow my son and I to reconnect with plants this year. I may be leaving the house behind we haven't left our love of plants, and I know now, no matter where I am or how ill I get, I will ALWAYS find a way to have a beautiful garden and grow food for us both, and my son enjoys the process as well. It's one of the few loves that we share, and I want to nurture this. What I want to do next year when we've moved is plot out an indoor garden which we can tend together.
I have plans, and a mission, but I just need the right house for it (and one does seem to be presenting itself, pray for DFG to get sorted out sooner rather than later!) I now know what to look for in a new house - detached house, understanding neighbours, safety, and someone else to mow lawns! Again, I've found such a place, I just really need the DFG to move faster. Failing that, I'll move myself, difficult as it may prove to be.
I rediscovered my independence and my creativity, buried away for so long due to the ever-necessary practicality of raising a child on one's own, not to mention a disabled child. It was there, but I had smothered it under school lunches and meetings and homework and Statement appeals, DLA forms and autism meltdowns and eating only what isn't touching on his plate. But it was there, it always was there. It stirred a bit when I was making jewelry, yawned and stretched when making soap, and now is fully awake and demanding of me "What shall we do today?" This too I share with my son - painting together and moving on toward reading stories together when he shows an interest in reading. I've yet to find a story which truly captures his imagination and interest, but I shall keep trying - this is one of my resolutions of the year: to read more books and get a feel for the genres again, to support artists more by buying prints I love, to fill my house with bits of whimsy and Lon'Aite (now that I don't have to worry quite so much about sprog destroying pieces I find dear). I'll move again to a place which more supports this creativity rather than stunts it, and I'll do it whether anyone "understands" why I'm doing it or not. And my mission this year is to not just talk about my work seeing light of day, but for it to actually happen. To make it happen. There's no point in waiting - wait for what, exactly?
(rash on palms which has the GPs more convinced I may have lupus).
However, it's not been all brilliance - my downturn on the health front is being further assaulted on all sides by a government which sees anyone who doesn't have a "real job" or does have a disability as a scapegoat and waste of time. Granted, this means I have put my writing ability into the activist camp once again (and that feels good to me on many levels to be honest), but it also means I have to take a more vigorous battle for myself right now - fighting for DLA, fighting for help at home, fighting for the right to be seen as working even if I haven't sold a damn thing yet, fighting to keep walking for at least one month longer. My health is my mission in 2011; somehow holding myself together with Naproxen glue and struggling with funding that apparently isn't there - though the banks are just fine, aren't they? Life has taught me that the world will not always care if you sink or swim, as long as it isn't happening to them personally. I will keep fighting, but I will not expect a suddenly overflow of compassion. Sprog and I are left to our collective fates and as a result I will have to keep us afloat and keep the wolves at the door at bay. So, more frugal measures, and more concentration on my health and independence, and the equipment for both. Expensive? Definitely. Necessary? Absolutely. I'll do it - for the same reason that you're supposed to put the oxygen mask on yourself before your child on an airplane; save yourself to be able to save your children.
I have a mission before me this year to find a place I can call home for a while, no matter how bad my health gets. This has required a lot of very painful truths being faced; the probability of living in a bungalow with wide doors for wheelchair access has become one of those truths, even though everyone tries to "cheer me up" and say it "probably won't happen", they're not the ones who have watched their walking ability deteriorating in nine months' time. I'll think positively when needed, but I'll also plan for the worst as needed as well to be sure I'm prepared for all contingencies. It isn't glamorous, it isn't fun, but it is necessary. And once the necessary is taken care of, the fun and glamour can happen afterwards. Of that, make no doubts.
2011 is a year for stability - or as stable as I can make things in a wildly rocking boat - and opulence and fun in greater measures than I've managed of late. My son is growing so quickly, I want to enjoy every moment of the time we have together - the time he actually wants to spend with Mum and not playing computer games. I want to reap those full benefits of family time before I blink and find he has become a young man, and I don't know where the time went.
So I will wish you all a productive, fun, beautiful, opulent, stable New Year. Make your dreams come true, for you, and you alone.
Ashe!
Labels: Good Life