Finishing Law School

Child is off with his dad today and the house is very, very quiet. It's always a bit of an adjustment but I managed to get some painting done (acrylic paint is a challenge for me, but I'm starting to get a hang of the medium), watered the garden, moved the cherry tree to try and get it some more light - I think being in the lee of all the scrub on the upper levels is one of the reasons the buds aren't open yet! - and also checking out the local wildcrafting efforts.
I used to pick mushrooms in the US but I haven't dared it here - I just don't know enough about the varieties and I'm rarely able to walk well enough to do the forays in the first place. So I was rather surprised when I ventured out this morning to find that there were some mushrooms growing right in my front garden! Hm...again I don't know enough about fungus here in the UK but these have a pretty standard "bolete" stem, no frills or anything on the stem, whitish-pink gills and a rather un-mushroomy fragrance which is rather strange. Doing some hunting about online it seems they are St George mushrooms and in theory are edible. However, I'm not stupid enough just to take a chance on these and therefore even though I suspect they are good eating, I'm leaving them where they are. It's good news though if I stay here to have some fungus I could maybe harvest next year if they're properly identified.
And then, there's the yarrow - tonnes of it. The whole front garden is half-yarrow and to be honest this is one of the reasons I'm often rather reticent to mow it! This is nature's antiseptic and I tend to harvest a good bit of this when I can manage it. Now that I've got a bit of herbal garden started in the back, I've been thinking about just lifting a patch of sod and transplanting it, removing the grass and letting the yarrow do its thing instead. Tempting, actually, and that may be tomorrow's project.
And we've got dandelions, yes we do! As a matter of fact, I've started to nuke the dandelion from a few places as I just don't need THESE many. Again, harvesting dandelion heads for wine has been thwarted by energy levels, but I have picked the greens to add to a salad which was heavenly. Noms! Whilst I was doing that, I checked on a patch of cleavers, which is coming along well and should be ready for harvest soon.
I'm still waiting on the elderflowers - I'm eyeing the trees and one tree in particular in the area which has an amazing collection of sweet-smelling blooms. The tree in the back garden is a bit "cattish" as it were, so I don't tend to use it for flowers, but I did pick the berries for tonic last year. I will do the same this year but shan't be taking it - whatever auto-immune issues I've got going on doesn't respond well to the berries, but sprog stayed almost completely illness-free this winter whilst on it.
Spring is definitely happening out there - an amazing spring so far although I do worry a bit about the complete lack of rain (oh dear, did I jinx the weather?) Still, it's hopefully a sign of a promising year out there, with plenty to harvest and share.

Labels: Garden, Good Life

This is Ludo, the Leonberger which we purchased through Glenbrindy Leos as a friend and companion for our son. I used to think Samoyeds were the most docile, gentle dogs with children which ever existed, but I have been corrected.
Ludo has been fantastic, forgiving, gentle, loyal, and a delight to have in my home as part of the family.
And, sadly, she has to go.
Her care and attention has been on the back burner lately as I just don't have the energy for walks. I couldn't afford insurance anymore, and so that went as well. Then, getting her to the vet for shots proved impossible as it requires me getting a cab there and back, which brings the cost up considerably. Her training has been scatty and due to lack of socialisation and getting out and about, she's getting very excitable. I'm strong but even I am having trouble holding her back these days.
I don't have the strength or energy for poo-patrol, or walks, or even brushing sessions. My son loves her, but I have to do what is right for Ludo as well right now, and while my mobility gets worse, there's more and more chance I'll be getting out and about outside in a wheelchair - no chance I can hold her while in one of those.
And so, I contacted Glenbrindy this week about them coming and taking her for rehoming. They've been very kind about this, and understand how hard it was for me to do that, but needs must. They say finding her a home may take a while but they'll certainly help.
I feel absolutely awful - I swore to myself as a young girl I'd never own another dog again as my own mum was forced through divorce to get rid of all our dogs - and now this feels like I'm just putting my son through that particular hell of losing a pet. I know he'll blame himself somehow, and I've entertained the thought of telling her she died (horrible, I've never lied to my son before, but I've no idea what else to say which won't make him feel like it's his fault).
I guess I also feel worse in that while I will miss her terribly, I also feel relieved; no more frantically holding her back whilst a stream of social workers and care assessors come in the door; no more desperately trying to stoop to clean up after her, or trying to muster the energy to groom; no more extreme guilt when she and I both eye her walking lead and yet I know if I take her even for a 20 minute walk I won't have the energy to get through the day.
There will be a huge hole in our lives which I have no intention of filling again (no more dogs, ever. That's it.) but I am grateful to Ludo for learning "chase-game", for fetching even if it's almost unheard of for this breed to do so, for putting her head on my knee when I needed the reassurance, for giving my son a topic of conversation with people he had never met who eventually, just as I do, saw that he wasn't just this disabled "thing", but a boy with a dog.

Labels: Random

It's probably no secret by now that ex and I, while we can be a unified front when it comes to education, don't see eye to eye on many things. However, even when it comes to education, we differ and right now, I'm about to start another war which I'll have to fight for my son against his own father.
Child isn't doing well in mainstream. I knew this would happen and I was just waiting to see how long it would take, but it's finally hitting the fan now. For a while I've been saying sprog should attend a special school, but ex has been adamant against. He of course has grand visions of child following in his own footsteps, attending Oxford and proving that his disability merely means he has unrecognised genius. Whilst I certainly agree that sprog is a bright child, he is not his father. They have similarities but that's all. Ex's stubbornness doesn't help, but can hinder the process. I appreciated him calling the school for me as dealing with the previous SEN head was a problem, but that woman is no longer the head of the unit, and the current Headteacher is much more approachable and switched on.
Child has blown up all morning in school, and has continued even now. There was an emergency meeting called and my son's social worker called and alerted me that sprog had kicked the taxi escorts and also was kicking off bigtime in class. It seems that everyone agrees - finally, after two years - that sprog is not a mainstream child. It is obvious he needs to be elsewhere, and this means he'll probably going to be attending a special school in the new year.
Me personally, I am relieved. Finally, someone listening. Sprog may be bright, but if you can't deal with his violent behaviour and his outbursts, he can't learn anything at all, and the current school can't do it. The other school sprog might be able to attend is full, and if the move to the special school is endorsed even by the current Head, then I can see this progressing quickly to that outcome.
The problem, however, is sprog's father. He has been adamantly insisting that sprog does not need to be in the SEN unit, insisting he just needs to be in a separate room with someone else learning the lessons. But ex isn't the one actually DOING any of this with sprog. He doesn't do homework, he doesn't read with him - and therefore he doesn't understand how currently damn-near-impossible it is to get sprog actually do any of these things. He dictates from on high what he feels should happen, and leaves other people to actually try and implement it. The school can't manage it, I can't manage it. In his insistence to try and get sprog to have an education "just like I did" (with zero understanding as to how difficult it was to do), sprog is falling rapidly behind his ability. Ex never had the kind of behaviour problems child has now. It's a whole different situation, and he just can't seem to see it.
Therefore, I have informed the school and anyone else involved that even though ex may call and speak on my behalf, this is one thing I'll handle myself. Sprog needs to go back to enjoying going to school and not seeing it as a prison sentence. He needs to be in an environment capable of dealing with his issues. He needs people to take the ASD diagnosis a lot more seriously than they have been doing. And right now - well, that means leaving my ex out of the educational loop.
I think my son's social worker has finally twigged onto what I've been saying all this time about ex, and he sounds a lot more supportive of ME as a result, rather than taking everything I say with a grain. Ex can sound very sensible - he's got the degree to back him up. That doesn't mean he actually knows what he's saying. He's just a damn good salesman.
So, things are going to move in a completely different direction. It is, I admit, a bit of a kick in the stomach. There was this part of me, very deep inside which I didn't allow myself to fully acknowledge, which was whispering that someday sprog was going to be able to progress to being just like other children with time. But each year, I find that dying away a bit more each time. It's heartbreaking, but more to the point, I can't believe that ex can't see it himself. But, then again, he doesn't really have the ability to pick that sort of thing up.
Within a few weeks (hopefully soon) the emergency SEN meeting will be called and the petition to put sprog into the local special school will be sent in. It may take a while before anyone takes that up, but it will happen eventually. That I can handle. What will be unpleasant is the conversation with ex: his flat refusal to have child put into anything that will 'label him for life', the further insistence that sprog is 'just like I was', the accusation that I kept him in the dark and I have no right to do so (even though I'm primary carer)...and so on. I have to push my illness, fatigue, and other stuff aside, gird the loins for my son again, and get to it. Again, I cannot back down.
Again...I won't.

Labels: Sprog

i have been eyeing my back garden of late, less with a feeling of vain hope and more with a sense of actual possibility. It just seems such a daunting bit of work, so overwhelming that I wasn't sure I could possibly get anything done with it this year, but things begin to fall into place. At the same time, I get some idea of what I'd like to do, and how to do it.
The garden is east-facing, with significant shade on the right hand side from a rather out-of-control snowberry hedge, brambles and a massive apple tree next door. I wouldn't mind the bramble so much if it wasn't so invasive (I certainly enjoy the blackberry addition to the windfall apples and have made many a crumble this autumn). I will more than likely need to rip the stuff out regardless and gather our berries nearby instead, which is no horrible thing. However this means I have a very large bit of very uneven ground which I have debated returfing, or doing something with it - the same with out in the front which is mostly in shade and seems only to grow moss but for the extreme right.
Indeed, I considered returfing the whole garden due to its uneven nature which is rather dangerous to walk on - this of course is exceedingly expensive. Now...hm. Now I'm not so sure. There has to be some kind of plant I could put in full shade, in the lower part of the garden which will get a bit damp and wouldn't get too damaged by apples falling down a fair bit. Ferns would be the obvious choice, but I'm trying to figure out what might work other than that - not be poisonous to my son, and also allow for a bit of ground cover as it would be one of those areas that I probably couldn't tend overmuch - or maybe I could if I raised it a bit off the ground.
Hm...I'm going to have a think on't. I was going to cram the whole left hand side which actually receives a fair bit of sun with just about whatever I could manage to get in; raised beds with fruit and veg, cut flowers, plants which basically earn their keep and either feed us or delight the senses. This however meant the right hand side would have been rather boring and neglected. Instead of the sunken depression (the garden, not me, entirely), I'm beginning to see ideas for a bed with a bit more interest. Hostas, ferns, periwinkle and may even the british speciality, bluebells.
Plans for sprog to have a wee house of his own are coming into shape, as well as various flower beds which each have their own bit of interest; for eating, for cutting, for smell, for colour. On top of this, it all has to be somewhat easy to maintain. I love dahlias, begonias and freesias, but if I have to lift the corms and tubers every year to protect them from frost then at the very least I'd like to put them all in one place, and waist height, for my own economy of movement. The strawberries need moving as the bed they're in just isn't working for them, but space is an issue, so some investment in strawberry "towers" will be occuring in the new year.
Plots and plans for better stairs for my somewhat iffy balance, paving, and substrate for the side area where I barbecue and hope to have a tiny lean-to greenhouse is in the works.
Is it "horticulturally approved"; are plants in the right grouping aesthetically? Will everything match? Will the soil be exactly right? Will the lawn be straight and luxurious? To be honest I have no clue. All I really care about is that my son loves going out there and he enjoys it. The rest is a bonus.

Labels: Garden

I wrote this as the beginning portion of the form letter which was mailed out today to every paper, tv news station, MP and party I could find. The letter itself will probably be dismissed because the Powers that Be argue it's just "repetitive spam" - sort of like their form letters we get sent to "The Occupier" - and therefore can be ignored. There's a strange disconnect between the fact that a bunch of people too ill to even type somehow managed to find the energy to copy, paste, and send and just being Viagra spam. I felt it took a personal touch for the receivers to understand why they're getting the emails they're getting.
Whether they listen or not is anyone's guess, but if they think we're just going to give up, they can guess again.
Today marks the only form of action or protest I can take due to recovering from a severe chest infection. As a disabled parent with a disabled child I am unable to attend "listening exercises", public rallies, consultations or anything else which involves politicians nodding and looking concerned. I am not the only one as there are millions of invisible disabled people who are being subjected to cuts - not that I ever received help no matter how much I begged and pleaded.
The following letter is "just the facts"; since it seems we the disabled are constantly told to not be emotive or allegorical. We are not to describe in acute detail what our lives are like and how much we struggle - that's not considered a fact, even though we live it; merely an anecdote. It is not considered a fact that I have sacrificed my life, marriage, and health to the care of my child and now look to lose my home and what little health I have left - that is merely a unfortunate story. It is not considered a fact that my son has been forced un-successfully through mainstream schools to the point he has become violent and I have to take on the Tribunal to see him get proper education - that is just a statistic.
But when we try and use facts - some of us barely capable of putting a paragraph together therefore we have to draft a universal letter to use- we're told it's "duplicative". How many of these emails will be thrown away because it's the same thing being said over and over again and therefore must just be spam? Is it really such a mental stretch to see that every email being sent is by an individual who is desperate, but doesn't have the words or political language-speak to be able to describe their despair, their fear and anxiety. It may be too "emotional" for you, but I want you to understand that every one of us who presses the "send" button today does so because we are desperate - we are LIVING THE FACTS, and it's more cruel, more terrifying, and more life-threatening than any mail-count or statistic sheet can ever truly convey.
Maria Miller is desperately out of touch with OUR facts, OUR truths, and OUR experiences. To be in her position with such a total lack of empathy for the people she is supposed to support is a huge slap in the face we have all felt compelled to let you know, whether we're flat on our backs in bed as I have been for the past four days or not.
And so, here is my horribly emotive, dismissively allegorical, uncomfortably personal intro to the repetitive emails you're going to be receiving today. I hope it made you cringe. I hope you winced. And then I hope you decided to act upon it for the better.

Labels: Advocacy

In comes the harvest; and that means I'm doing lots of baking and cooking, I've been eating rubbish due to exhaustion and just not having the energy to cook and my diet has suffered. When I hobbled out to get some cat food today I realised my plans to take child into town were foiled. Everything hurt and even the pain medication wasn't cutting it. So, it's a day inside and rather than waste it being online, I decided to eat something and get caught up with a few chores here - but there wasn't anything for breakfast I could actually eat. I decided to do some heavy foraging outside as well as what I've frozen from earlier this year, and see what I could come up with.
Some white-chocolate/berry muffins have been made, half for the tin, and half for the freezer. Sprog isn't a fan, but for mornings when I only grab tea and maybe some toast, I now have something a bit more filling as well as a bit of a blueberry/redcurrant hit.
I also did a spelunk of the veg drawer; I admit I don't eat anywhere near enough veggies due to the fact the cooking and preparation is often too much for me; it's a shame as child actually loves his tatties, carrots and broccoli but even cutting and washing puts a lot of pressure on my hands, and I like my veg a bit more interesting than boiled. So after gathering what I could from the drawer, I went outside and harvested in some veggies, chard and herbs, and made a big pot of veggie-pasta soup, with a touch of miso added for flavour.
While doing all this I realised my garden is also very neglected; still don't have a strimmer and it's been raining too much to get the mower out. I've got to deadhead some blooms and may as well bring a bouquet inside today.
The house smells lovely and while I still have some takeaway in the fridge, I don't actually want it. The food I've made is much tastier!

Labels: Food, Garden, Good Life

I know, I know, I'm posting like a madwoman today, but the excitement has been huge.
I did very little work yesterday - Easter break is coming up and I need to conserve my energy. If I exert myself for a few hours, I pay for it for days. But I just couldn't resist; the raised bed was calling me, and the mound of soil before the bed just seemed like it would be perfect for straightening up my rugosa hedge next to the fence.
So, bright and early after losing an hour to daylight savings (and what of it? I'm used to being up at 6am) I was out with shovel in hand and I set to.
I wasn't convinced about the small path leading to the raised bed with mounds on either side; honestly, I think they just really didn't want to try digging that hill by hand, and I certainly could not blame them. There were four men out there and they could barely get the ground to shift. It's horrible soil; clay, flint, chalk. They managed to break it up with pickaxes but it was still backbreaking and the whole process took five hours. We're apparently going to get pummelled with rain over the next few days and I wanted to get things sorted out before the rain packed everything down again. So I decided to make a flat walkway with a bit of soil in between this and the patio space, either to be packed down or turned into a small planted "strip".The roses have always needed a tidy; when I tried putting them in last year I was so dismayed at how impossible it was to dig into the ground here, so I know exactly what the gents were going through yesterday! However, their efforts had loosened up plenty of ground, and I just shovelled this in round the rugosas, straightening out some of the leaning stems and packing the earth in. Roses are amazing plants - they are very much coddled usually; fertilised and trimmed and fussed over, but when left to their own devices they can survive for ages in some really horrible conditions that would kill other plants. I adore not only their beauty and fragrance, but their hardiness to withstand just about everything nature throws at them. So even though there's nothing but clay, flint soil round them, I know these rugosas will be just fine.
Vegetables however are a different story! The raised bed was now full up with clay soil left over from digging the patio space, so I started to break up the clods. I only had one bag of compost left - and even that compost, though rich, is incredibly dense. Inspiration struck, however as I remembered the sharp builder's sand left over! I started hauling buckets of the stuff from the front to the back, and then mixed it in with the clay, picking out the larger stones as I went, as well as any weeds and grass I could find. Then I went up to my compost heap and I raked out as much compost as I could get to, even some that was still composting (this went into the pea-bean area) and mixed that, giving it a good forking over. As I went, I tromped back and forth to try and make a relatively level space underfoot next to the raised bed, so I could get from one side of the bed to the other without needing to lean or strain myself - important both for me and also my young son.
I managed to mix in a fair bit of sand, organic matter and even left some furroughs which are almost all sand - primarily for growing carrots, which might struggle in the soil otherwise. Over this, I've spread the bagged compost, digging it in, and then covering the top with a thin layer. It's by no means "done" - clay soil can be a right bugger, and what I think I will do is just turn the whole garden under, burying any plants that have bolted, cutting the peas and beans at ground level and then digging them in, and at the end of the season when nearly everything is out, add any more sand that I have left. Adding compost will be a year-long thing, but that's what the compost bin is for, and so I'll keep at it.
I couldn't resist laying the cut ash canes to mark out the pea/bean area, and I planted out the strongest of the leeks - about three rows worth. Since the soil has warmed nicely, I also put in a row of assorted baby leaf lettuce seeds to get them underway as I've started buying lettuce for salads as the taste for them has returned, but of course there's the option of just growing my own!
I did all this in about two hours and I suspect I'm going to spend a portion of tomorrow wondering what I was thinking! But I so wanted that bed ready for the Easter break, when sprog and I can start planting some more seeds and get to digging in dirt together.

Labels: During, Garden