Back From Wedding One, Wedding Two To Come.

It has been a hectic overnight trip to the wedding in Essex. But it came with many plus points that made the journey worthwhile.

On Saturday morning, I took Ollie to our next door neighbours to spend the night. I also took his dog-bed, a couple of his favourite toys, and food and treats to last him until we got back. Then I left, telling Ollie I would not be long, and feeling guilty about leaving him.

Once we had packed up the car, the in-built Sat-Nav refused to recognise our destination. I had to go with Plan B. Drive to where I knew the town was, then keep an eye open for the hotel. I am pleased to say that worked, and we arrived with just over an hour to spend getting ready before we had to leave for the venue. The traffic had been reasonable on the 100 mile trip south, the hotel had our booking details correct, and the receptionist phoned a taxi to take us to the village where the wedding was being held.

We arrived on time, as in 15 minutes before the bride and groom. Then we booked a taxi for midnight to make the return journey to our hotel 5 miles away. It was all very nice; lovely weather, guests outside in the garden with a live band, and an official photographer making the rounds for both group and individual photos. We met up with my section of the family, seriously in the minority at the function, and it was great to see relatives I hadn’t met for 7-8 years.

The food was excellent, and after the speeches we retired into the garden to enjoy the cool breeze before the evening disco. I realised that I was truly getting old when the popular dance music entertaining the younger guests started to give me a headache, and forced me to spend most of the evening sat outside where we could have a good conversation without shouting across tables. But that was no hardship, as re-connecting with family was the highlight of the day for me.

When it came to midnight, we said our goodbyes and walked into the car park, hoping our taxi was waiting for us. If it hadn’t turned up, we would have been in real trouble finding another one late on a Saturday night. Luckily, it was there waiting.

Julie had an uncomfortable night in the hotel bed, but I managed to sleep for almost 8 hours. We checked out at around 10 this morning, and arrived home in good time, with no traffic issues at all. Going next door to collect Ollie, he was delighted to see us, and our neighbours reported that his behaviour had been impeccable.

Back in the house, the travelling caught up on us, and we both felt drained. So my apologies that I have not been able to view anyone’s blog posts from Saturday, or today. I will start fresh on Monday, until we leave for the next wedding later in the week, to do it all again much further South, and over more nights.

I was going to cook a traditional Sunday dinner tonight, but we have both decided to send out for Indian food instead. 🙂

Very Tired

I suspect it is the hot weather recently, or the birds waking me up at first light. But lately I have been very tired by 10pm, and going to bed even earlier than that.

This means that I might miss some of your posts because of time differences, but I will catch up when I can, promise.

It is only 7pm here, and I have not even eaten dinner. But it already feels like midnight, so I will be offline soon, and preparing for bed before it even gets dark.

I hope it is just the season, and nothing sinister.

Worn Out Doing Nothing

Yesterday, my step-daughter had a party to celebrate her engagement to her long-term boyfriend. A happy occasion planned for the daytime, outside in their garden.

We had good notice of it, and Julie made two large trifles to add to the food on offer, most of which was to be barbecue. The weather wasn’t celebrating though, and early rain where they live 28 miles south necessitated the erection of two large canvas pergola shelters, and the addition of some large garden umbrellas. The gathering was for family and friends, around twenty in total, and as it was outside we didn’t have to be too concerned with safety precautions for Covid-19.

I took Ollie out early. He couldn’t come to the party, as my step-daughter has an enormous dog that Ollie has never met. We didn’t want to take the chance of any doggy disputes spoiling the day for everyone. Then just after 12:30, we drove down to their house in torential rain. Julie was holding the two big glass bowls containing the trifles, which were resting on a large tray on her lap. I had to drive very carefully around roundabouts and sharp bends!

Fortunately, the rain stopped just as we arrived. I got two folding chairs from the back of the car, which we had brought to make sure we had somewhere to sit.

It was a lovely afternoon, with everyone in a great mood. The rain held off, the six small children played together with no dramas, and the Shetland Pony-sized dog (a Cane Corso) was friendly to everyone, even if he did have to be strictly watched around anything edible. We sat on our chairs, hardly moving except to go to and from the table to get things to eat.

By six in the evening, many of the party-goers had to leave, to get their children home to bed. We stayed until 6:30, before driving home. Ollie was very pleased to see us after being left for so long, and he was given an extra treat as a reward.

It wasn’t long after that, only nine at night in fact, before both of us were yawning as if we had been awake for three days. By eleven, I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and made an early start on a night’s sleep. This morning, both of us feel stiff and achey from sitting on the low collapsible chairs for so long yesterday.

Literally worn out from doing nothing.

Tired

Do you ever get tired? I don’t mean because you worked hard in the garden, or didn’t sleep too well last night.

I get tired now. Bone tired, exhausted. Mostly from doing very little. A couple of hours dog-walking. Sorting out the evening meal.

How tiring can that be? Well, quite a lot, apparently.

Age and tiredness seem to go hand-in-hand. Everything I do feels exhausting now.

That might be just cutting the grass, or buying the ‘big shop’ at the local supermarket.

How did this happen? Where did it come from?

Okay, I am 69 years old. Far from ‘ancient’, in the 21st century.

Whatever the reason, I am still tired.

And often completely worn out too.

I have to say that I don’t like it that much, but I will have to learn to live with it.

Undoubtedly.

Thinking Aloud On a Sunday

Had enough.

I woke up early with painful leg cramp this morning, and couldn’t get back to sleep. It is a warm and sunny day, but I couldn’t care less.

I am moany, grumpy, and fed up to my back teeth.

Still tired and sleepy, despite twice as much sleep as normal. Exhausted from doing very little, and zero enthusiasm to do more.

The PC and keyboard problems are stopping me being able to comfortably write my serial, so by the time that is back again, I expect everyone will have lost track of it.

And to add to that, my comments are failing to appear on at least a dozen sites.

I should be excited about a new computer arriving next week, but I’m not in the least. More tech to struggle with, at a time when I feel little inclination to do anything of the kind.

I have a noise in my left ear that sounds like the tide coming in, and a niggling headache that won’t seem to go away.

Fed up doesn’t even begin to cover it.

I have had enough.

Sorry, but all that just had to come out.

Symptoms?

You may remember that I was too tired to post an episode of my serial the other night.

Then I woke up feeling much perkier yesterday.

But by 9 pm, I felt completely exhausted, and could hardly keep my eyes open.
I was in bed and asleep not that long after 10 pm.

I slept for over 12 hours, without stirring. When I got up late this morning, I felt as if I hadn’t even been asleep. As the day went on, I did my usual stuff on the blogs, feeling sleepier than ever.

But Ollie has to go out. So I had a bath, got dressed, and took him over to his usual favourite places. After 30 minutes, I had to sit down on a fallen tree, and could easily have stretched out and slept on it. But I had to press on, for Ollie’s sake.

After 90 minutes, I was so tired, I had to come home.

I don’t have a cough.
I don’t have a high temperature.
I don’t feel unell.

But I found this online.

‘According to the WHO, the most common symptoms of Covid-19 are fever, tiredness and a dry cough.’

Oh dear…

I will let you know what happens. Meanwhile, there may not be any more blog posts from me today.

My holiday: The delay

I would like to have put up some posts about my trip to The Lakes by now, but it was not to be. I logged on to my computer on Sunday to find 470 unanswered emails, 90% of them to do with my blog, or blogs I follow. I am not complaining, believe me, but it has taken the better part of two days to sort them out; to reply, comment, and thank those who emailed me. As well as the 17 new followers, who I really do appreciate.

As I write this post, I still have ten emails unanswered, with more popping up every few minutes. I have really tried my best to comment on everyone’s posts, or just to add a like, where appropriate. In the meantime, I have been deleting unwanted photos from my trip, and sorting others into the appropriate days, or scenes.

I already have notes from the holiday, and will endeavour to do each day justice, even if the photos eat into my wordpress allowance. This was something unusual, something special, and it deserves my full attention. The photos are simple tourist shots, unaltered, and straight from the camera. Some are not great, admittedly. Others are more than acceptable. They are what they are, given the prevailing conditions, and I will be happy to stand by them.

It has taken me all this time to recover from all the walking, the hill climbing, the early starts, and the unaccustomed gradients, Despite that, I am looking forward to many forthcoming posts, with photos celebrating the wonderful part of the UK called The Lake District. Just bear with me…

Late summer lethargy

As the shortest summer I can ever remember draws to a close, I am beginning to anticipate our short holiday in Kent, in early September. The change of scene, and the time spent together, will make for a welcome break from routine. Despite many dry days recently, and a return of the warmer weather we enjoyed in late May, it has been a summer that passed without notice. Heavy rain throughout July lost us one of the months, and most of June wasn’t that memorable either. So far, August has been marked by a lot of grey, heavy sky, uncomfortably warm nights, and the constant threat of rain that rarely appears.

Since being laid low recently by the virus of some kind, I have not really got back on my feet, or returned to the form before the short period of feeling unwell. I am still tired after a good sleep overnight, and I feel as if I have no energy at all. Routine jobs have become a bind, and even Ollie’s walks have been tiresome, and less paced, with me seeking out benches to sit on more than I ever did before. As a result, those jobs inside and outside the house have started to pile up. Despite resolving daily to do this, or tackle that, nothing is getting done. Getting up earlier to allow more time to do them hasn’t helped at all. I have simply felt tired for longer. Even the prospect of my few hours at the windmill on Friday seems like a daunting task, instead of a pleasant morning out.

The hedges are overdue a cut. Growing fast after the rain, they appear unkempt and shabby. The back patio needs weeding, as the small green shoots have now grown into fully-formed plants between the gaps in the slabs. Garden furniture needs sanding and staining, ready for the coming change in the seasons, and the grass has suddenly popped up again, with the lawn resembling a wild meadow. In nine days time, we have visitors from my family. I am not about to present them with their first sight of our house in this condition, so I going to have to seriously raise my game, starting this weekend. Perhaps once I get started, I might rediscover some of the lost energy. I can only hope so.

It is a shame that I am not a famous artist, or bohemian writer. If I was, I could retire to a chaise longue, and place the back of my hand against my forehead, as I gaze listlessly through the window.

Then others would say it was ‘ennui.’