About Me

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melting but not down

Tuesday, 18 February 2014


I retired from work on 31st January and haven't had any regrets. . . so far.  I'd had enough - a combination of still feeling the after effects of a bout of shingles which included months of waking at daft o'clock, uncomfortable in my own skin, and pessimism about the future of  my job as a probation officer which thanks to Chris Grayling is in the throes of an ill thought out and hasty privatisation.  Things can only get worse from now on so I'm glad to be out of it.

Retucket list:

  1. Write a book about mum and me (although Magnus Magnussen's daughter has beaten me to it with her story of coping with her mum's dementia so maybe it will end up at the bottom of the to do pile).
  2. Design knitting patterns for toddlers (boys mostly as there's less choice for them) and try to sell them on Ravelry, etc
  3. Make a proper job of tracing my family tree, including travelling to distant parishes to find my ancestors' records.
  4. Home improvements including new windows and doors, new kitchen and bathroom. The chimney sweep is coming today as we plan to open up the fire in the dining room again and put  a log burner in - cosy for family meals and lovely for Christmas.
  5. Create a herb and vegetable patch in the garden.
  6. Spend more time with old friends.
  7. Enjoy my grandson.
  8. Transfer vinyl to computer compatible machine and then transfer tracks to some device that I can plug into the USB port in my car.
I think that's enough to be going on with for now!

Friday, 24 May 2013

beginning the book...

I am printing out my blog as I type, the first step in working out which posts to include and filling in the gaps with memories of mum from my son and daughter.  Still don't know whether it will be worth reading but I plan to include links to dementia support agencies so perhaps it will be a helpful book as well as an entertaining read.  Or perhaps it will end up in the recycling pile lol.

As for me, I've taken flexible retirement so now only work 3 days a week (can't wait to retire altogether) and look after my gorgeous grandson on Wednesdays.  I'm back on Prozac as I recognised the early signs of depression creeping in again and it is helping me cope with life's vicissitudes.  I've been on sick leave for over 3 weeks after falling down the stairs carrying my grandson - he's ok, I tore ligaments in both ankles and am still hobbling around but have promised my boss I'll return to work on Tuesday next.   Grrr.  

Watch this space.

Saturday, 4 August 2012

what do you think?

I started off by checking what I'd been up to this time four years ago then three and quickly became drawn into reading old posts of the surreal reality of dealing with mum's dementia.  Time had dimmed my memory of just how intense, exhausting, agonising, frustrating and occasionally unintentionally hilarious it was.  It got me thinking, if 'everyone has a book in them', is this mine?  Would the story of mum's decline and the impact it had on our relationship be of any interest to anyone?  I wouldn't mind putting it all together just to be able to read it through chronologically, without having to skip backwards through posts. Might be interesting for my son and daughter as I don't think they've seen/know about this blog.  I'd welcome your thoughts, especially those of you who have accompanied me on this journey (if you're still with me!).

Wednesday, 25 July 2012


The other day I was putting some jewellery away and decided to sort out the tangled mess that was my jewellery box.  Moving mum's wedding ring and dad's signet ring around, I tried them on individually and, not really holding out any hope, asked each if they could help me find a couple of rings I'd been missing for weeks.  Back downstairs, I was drawn to the welsh dresser and picked up a little trinket box.  Inside were the missing rings and a pair of earrings I thought I'd lost.  I'd looked everywhere for those rings but would never have thought of checking the trinket box because it just wasn't somewhere I would have thought to put them.  Maybe the old folks are still with me, maybe not. What do you think?

Friday, 27 January 2012


Is it really only 11 weeks since mum died?  Feels like 11 months. I'd say I'm all over it now but maybe not.  I suspect that the stress of the months leading up to mum's death has finally caught up with me.  I am feeling quite low but I'm attributing that to lack of sleep - for weeks and weeks the old nettle devils problem has been waking me up constantly, gradually zombie-fying me.   I've tried a variety of anti-histamines and moisturisers (made me itch more) but it wasn't until I slathered myself in steroid ointment and took a double dose of doze-inducing anti-histamines two days ago that relief finally came. I'm hoping things will improve from now because I'm really struggling at work, not only lacking the energy to get through the day but also having lost all enthusiasm for the job.  I'd retire today if I could afford it.

Friday, 11 November 2011

Wednesday, 9 November 2011


Mum hasn't eaten for a week or two, hasn't drank for 5 days.  When weighed a couple of weeks ago she was 4 stone 9 pounds (65 pounds) but will be a lot less now.  She's permanently bedridden and mostly asleep, a bundle of skin and bone.  Now and then she makes a little "ooh" noise and shifts her limbs slightly, once in a while she opens her sunken eyes but they stare blankly and briefly ahead before closing again.  She was 92 on Sunday, I don't think my "Happy Birthday Mum!" registered at all.  The doctor has prescribed Oromorph to reduce pain/agitation.  Mum lies on an air mattress and the care home staff turn her every 4 hours to reduce the chance of pressure sores but she is starting to get red patches on the boniest parts of her body.  I've been advised that the end is probably days rather than weeks away, everyone is amazed at what a tough old bird she is. Surprising how exhausting waiting for the inevitable is.  I wake up in the early hours most nights and am dragging myself through the day at work, mobile always in reach in case the home calls and says its time to say goodbye. I wish it were over.