Angry

Because I have lost so much that didn't need to be lost. Because surgeons follow stupid sets of rules about what needs to be done and how, instead of asking the patients what they want and what they can deal with and live with, so they waste a life that didn't need to be wasted.  And because we had four years of a nasty oozing wound for no good reason. And a year of chemo, for no good reason, and obfuscation and mealy-mouthed euphemistic "palliative" "care", and referalls that didn't and long, long waits in waiting rooms with no amusement value whatsoever...

Because I have lost something infinitely precious to me, the qigong; because my stupid teacher wanted a class full of ladies who want to fuck him rather than a room full of good students who look after each other and appreciate the heritage, and because then I got self-conscious and lost the will to practice.. And because his teacher could not forgive something not my fault, and just made meanness and more meanness that I didn't deserve.
A waste of time and energy and this magical infinitely powerful stuff which was so good for me.

Because my house is a mess and full of crap that I don't like or want, but which seems too good to get rid of.

Because I can't find any damned thing when I put it down, and I spend so much time each day looking for lost things, a waste of my energy and time and frustration

Because the idiotic bad back is causing me so many knock-on problems - the drugs are not good for me, they put weight on me and are addictive (and I have had to chase the prescriptions so many times), the pain is disabling, the lack of mobility is disabling, the lack of flexibility and strength is disabling, the uncertainty is causing me despair..

And because the world is so obsessed with one medical thing, that I can't even discuss any of my problems with a doctor. Surely they aren't all out of the office?

Because I need to be competent and keep my business going and I run away from big orders and witter about...

And because the todo list gets longer and longer and I really can't prioritise.

And I'm angry, because pretty much all of this could be solved (not the idiot surgeon, that's too late) if only I just got on with everything..

So, time to catch my breath, kick the collective ass a little, tidy up, throw stuff away, finish all those stupid jobs, get the stocktaking properly under weigh, and stop crying.. Time to stop feeling sorry for myself...
After all, no-one else wants the job...

Compost

The plan was to build John a Man Cave shed at the bottom of the garden, and that he would put his lathe and big drill and everything in there and potter. And, perhaps, get a bit of peace and quiet. We had costed up the shed and thought about all the important stuff, like a Thinking Armchair.
Then, in May, when it looked like he might only have a few days to live, we made the decision, more on his side than mine, that this was the end of his working time, and he was, whatever else happened, retired for good

And he came home. Now, part of the plan was to move the compost bins further up the garden, putting them behind the two arches that split off the vegetable garden, and making new bins from nice pallet wood. One was part-made. I finished it, and looked at it in it's new place, and put it firmly back at the bottom of the garden where the old one had been.

And there it has stayed
.
And, until yesterday, it leaned nicely to the left, which was annoying, and not up to John's fairly rigorous standards for woodwork (I did make the sides myself, but he had cut and painted all the wood)
So, I've been shifting and sifting - see the new veg bed above. The compost is lovely, apart from the huge amount of twigs...
You can't get the staff these days (I paid someone to shift the right bin to the left last year. This year, no such available staff)
You cannot beat home-made compost for growing good crops, and mine has every scrap of kitchen waste, grass cutting, and tops of nettles (no roots!), soft weeds, all manner of stuff.. I found a rat skull in the bottom of the new bin...
When we came here the garden suffered badly from having had the topsoil disturbed and the clay subsoil exposed. After two years, no more digging (I use a fork only, and do not walk on the beds)

By last night, the new bin was empty enough to tip the whole thing over, roll it onto it's head, and let it dry out a bit

This morning, in a fit of enthusiasm, I levelled the ground (and dug out 4 more barrowloads of good compost), laid four leftover pavers into the base, applied the spirit level, and tamped down (by jumping up and down), then rolled the bin back into place... Look! No lean!

Now I just have to shift all the Stuff from right to left again, and the Stuff at the bottom of the right-hand bin may be usable almost at once. The secret to all of this system of compostery is patience. Shift only once a year, fill the right bin, empty the left...
I hope John is / would be approving, apart from the little voice I could hear going "Don't lift the stones" at the back of my head.  Didn't lift, rolled...

I hope you are proud of me, my lovely man. I am trying to keep standards high.