Hold your horses they say …and frankly it’s something that I’m not too good at. You see, I’m an enthusiastic type by nature and rarely ‘put off till tomorrow what can be done today.’ So, when I say that I had the flag in my hand, ready to hoist at the prospect of Richard going back to work, you will understand my instant flat lining at the news that the doctor advised another 4 weeks off. Yep, another 4 weeks off!
My war whoops died in my throat and I put aside the fireworks.
Yes, I know you think me mean and I don’t blame you one iota …because you are not living my life.
In the ‘olden days’ – 3 months ago, I had a lovely little routine that some people would kill for – basically pleasing myself and with no feelings of guilt for doing so. Now, with dear Richard on the premises, I feel massive guilt if I don’t offer myself up to him as his doting and ever ready companion. You see, he isn’t able to occupy himself around the place for long and always suggests ‘popping out’ somewhere – even to the dreaded ‘garden centre.’ I’ll tell you this, I can’t fit in another teaspoon of soil conditioner or compost anywhere!
Because of this I don’t really get to turn the computer on until he trots off around 7.00pm to go for his daily walk. Yes! Richard walking! Stones the crows. And not just any walking. He’s gone for an hour at a time sometimes. I did get to wondering if he had turned into a peeping Tom because he always waits until almost dark. Changing the clocks has thrown him out of sync a bit and he now trots off as daylight fades.
Then I got to thinking that he might be popping in somewhere? To see someone? Another woman? But to be honest, the only evidence of any ‘other than normal behaviour,’ is the smell of chocolate that follows him as he walks back through the door.
He swears he isn’t visiting the local Spar store but I suspect otherwise.
And now I’ll come clean and admit something that I never thought I would admit – I’ve kinda got used to him being around. Bloody hell I hear you cry but it’s true. Admittedly, I can no longer spend hours trawling Facebook, Twitter, etc., etc., and I haven’t started another book either, but is this a bad thing? I think not. I think things happen for a reason and I think I was spending way too much time on silly, time-consuming things. I’m not saying writing is a silly, time-consuming thing but it won’t hurt to take a break.
I also have to admit – in writing – that he has been nothing at all like I expected him to be. He is doing really well and I can’t get near to the sink or wrench the vacuum from his hand. He rarely complains about shoulder pain and has turned into a brave little soldier. I am, to be honest, amazed. I thought the last 3 months were going to be hell, but they haven’t been. Other than feeling guilty at ‘doing my own thing,’ it has been all good in the hood. He has played with his motorbike, quietly and unobtrusively, whilst I have toiled in the veggie garden, fighting off the recent winds and erecting netting and plastic sheeting to prevent Chea from poohing in the newly planted seedlings. Chea has paid no mind to the acres of netting and has, at every opportunity, crept beneath it and opened up her delicate little bowels …lovely. It’ll do wonders for the onions.
I think the extra 4 weeks are just going to be the icing on the cake. They will polish him up to new (ish) and then off he will gallop, back to work, to earn lots of lovely money and I can get back to doing what I love doing …pleasing myself and following my own routine …which, frankly, isn’t a routine …that’s the whole point.
One thing that I have noticed with the dear man is that he appears not to hear me very well these days …unless I quietly enquire if he would like the last piece of chocolate cake and then he has ears the size of a donkey’s and answers immediately. I’ve told him to get onto the internet and book a hearing test.
He said, ‘What?’
I didn’t answer.
He then said, ‘I know exactly what they will say – they will say that I need my ears clearing of wax.’
I blanched a bit at that.
‘But,’ he continued, ‘if you don’t mind me walking around here for a week with cotton wool in my ears that’s fine.’
‘Oh God!’ I exclaimed, ‘not another sodding bottle of Earex?’ The medicine drawer must have 4 bottles of the bloody stuff …all out of date and moulding.
‘No, I’ll use olive oil,’ he said smugly.
‘Not my GOOD olive oil!’ I said.
‘Oh, I suppose you want me to use chip fat?’
We don’t possess chip fat. ‘No,’ I said. ‘You can use that stir fry oil that’s been kicking around for ages.’
‘Charming!’ he said, laughing. ‘So, I’ll smell like a Chinese takeaway?’
‘Be different to smelling of chocolate.’
He looked confused, briefly, and then said. ‘I’ve told you before, I don’t buy chocolate when I’m out walking.’
Well, all I can say is, if he doesn’t buy the stuff when out walking, his fancy woman must do a good line in hot chocolate?
To date, the cotton wool has not entered his ear canal and he is still practising selective hearing.
And now, Richard is telling me that it’s time to trot off to the farm shop to pick up some shavings for the chucks cage …see what I mean? Although – poor Flight (grey chuck) isn’t well. She’s been up and down for the last 4 weeks – bright, happy, then a bit low, and now she looks sad and sits around rather uninterested in most things. I fear I may lose her and that will be hard. Little – (white chuck) adores Flight and, I fear, will not want to live without her.
But that hasn’t happened yet, so I’ll just keep my fingers crossed and apply all the love and attention that I can muster.
So, off we trot …