Crazy, windy, perfect

Today was a good day. 

Simple, uncomplicated and unplanned. It is a rarity.

Taking a small break from farm duties, that is after checking one of our cows who is showing all the signs of an impending birth but seems too busy eating to calve, tending to my little flock of hens and feeding the furballs and puppies, I decided to make an effort and take dad out for the day. Daryl and Bek were at work and I was left to my own adventures.

Crazy, windy, wonderful

With all the good intentions in the world, I messaged two of Dad’s friends and organised to bring him to visit, also organised some of the kids to meet us for lunch. Off I went, travelled for half an hour, only to be greeted by a cantankerous, surly, man who refused to get off the bed. He got a little mouthy, at the nurse, as she put his socks and shoes on. Insisting he was too sick to come out, in one breath, and in the other, proclaiming he did not need any medication as he wasn’t sick at all! I am told he has been refusing his medication, but he doesn’t remember that of course. Dementia is a bitch of an illness and plays cruel tricks on people. It is incredibly frustrating on the sufferer and equally challenging for family and friends trying to work through it. Dementia brings out the worst traits in people. With no filter in place any more, sufferers cannot hide behind the veil of correctness that the rest of us have mastered during our lifetime. Arguing with them is futile, and unfair. The best option is to wish them a speedy recovery, and walk away. Which is precisely what I did.

Despite dad’s refusal, we all decided to go ahead with lunch, so I quickly bolted back home, did a few more domestic tasks and dropped over to the neighbour, who was expecting dad for a cuppa. Explaining the change in plans, Bob and I chatted amicably for a few minutes and he handed me another couple of movies to watch. Our neighbours have an amazing collection of British tv series, movies and all manner of other shows. It’s like a dvd store but better!

Best of friends. Faithful companions. 

It was now time to shop. Arriving in Rosedale, with a voucher in hand, I went to the plant nursery and proceeded to wander, finally settling next door in the café with a cup of ‘real’ tea and the Sunday paper, while waiting for the young ones. Good music was playing in the background and the owners have created a relaxing, welcoming atmosphere. I found myself gazing out the window in-between reading snippets out of the paper, thoroughly enjoying my own company, at least for a few minutes. The kids arrived, chess was played, and colouring completed as we enjoyed delicious wood fired pizzas and a few drinks. Family news was exchanged as plans were made and before we expected, time had passed and it was mid-afternoon. 

Rounding off the afternoon I collected the dogs and ventured to the beach. Crazy windy, the beach was deserted for the most part and the waves were crashing. The pups just loved it and so did I. Peaceful and perfect already, it was improved by a surprise visit by a friend. We chatted, about nothing important, and simply enjoyed a moment. My friend is unwell, moments are fewer than they used to be and these days, more than ever, I cherish every memory we make. Today, as the wind whirled around our ears and the pups tangled in our toes, my heart was full and my soul sang a happy song.

Returning home, the pups and I checked that cow again, she was still eating, and so with the rain falling we finished the outside chores, soaked to my underwear it was time to call it quits and pick up Bek. Feeling generous we cleaned Daryl’s car (which I was driving) and Bek got to enjoy her favourite activity – going through the carwash!

My most favourite place in the world.

As darkness closed in and we were enjoying the warmth of the kitchen, our house phone rang, Bek and I both checked the number display and I answered knowing it would be relatives from England. The only other people who use that phone are salesman and my father-in-law. Fortunately, I had already enjoyed a kahlua and coke, because it was not the conversation I expected. In fact, I’m still processing it. Seems for more than 45 years they believed I was the biological child of my parents, so imagine the shock when they read a previous blog referring to my adoptive mother. 

Mmmmm the questions, so many questions.

Until next time,

N