A Wimsical Return

Two days ago  was the second anniversary of the day I was told by the oncologist at Addenbrooke's that I would be dead within twelve months. I have now survived five years since my first melanoma operation, and six years since my bladder carcinoma treatments. We are celebrating with a long holiday in Cumbria, enjoying lakes, sun and mountains in an old farm cottage near Kirkby Stephen. It is a bit of an extravagance, but with Kier Starmer newly named the "Grannie Harmer", we feel there's no point in conserving our savings too tightly. This government will either tax them away, of take them from us at death so no one will inherit much anyway, so we might as well spend our savings while we can enjoy them and give pleasure to others. 

Returning the sheep

The cottage is accessed up a footpath and behind a gate, which the owners emphasised must be kept closed to keep the animals out. We stayed in a similar place in Western Ireland once, and the woman told us to "keep the gate closed to keep the darkies out". We were bemused until we realised, with her heavy Cork accent, she'd said "keep the donkeys out". Yesterday, Ann went out to open our gate and suddenly noticed a herd of sheep in a pen by the footpath had nudged open their own gate and were now trotting down to the road. I banged on the door of a caravan in the field and told a distrusting shepherd - who seemed to think we must have tampered with his gate - that his sheep had forced their way out and were now down to the road. He went to his barn, came out on a quadbike with his old collie on the back, and set off in pursuit. Sure enough they were all heading back in a few minutes, neat as a show trial.

We now enter Autumn, a mellow season with warm skies and days still long enough to enjoy before the chill sets in. I chose to remember summer with a fresh painting for Ann, a solitary sunflower she was given as part of a bunch of flowers. It now lights a dark corner of our hall. 

The End of Summer

It has been a glorious week of Indian Summer, with exceptionally high temperatures, clear blue skies, and no wind. We have made the most of this unseasonal weather, with long walks and outdoor pub lunches. I even managed to walk to the Ribblehead Viaduct, nearly two miles in total, the furthest I have walked since my pre-cancer days. This clear, pure Cumbrian air is clearly doing me good.

Edwin and Andre are staying in the cottage for a few days, but today Edwin shot off first thing to buy his new Apple phone, insisting he gets it the day it's released. He looked up the nearest Apple centre to Kirkby Stephen and it was either Leeds or Gateshead. Andre unfortunately has developed an eye infection and is resting in the cottage, so Ann had to leave early on an unexpected side visit to Metroland.