This last week - no, the whole month so far - oh, that is only a week or so - has felt like being on the Gallopers.
I seem to be rescheduling events as fast as I can write them down, and altering the rescheduled events before I know what the new schedule is. Time to abandon computer calendars and go back to paper.
Why? The annual SATS tests for the primary schools always completely scrambles things, as the whole school is kept as silent as can be and all music lessons cancelled (especially djembe) to give the children the best chance. Every available room is commandeered as many of the children have help with reading the questions, or help with writing the answers. This is a surprisingly skilled job, reading the questions without giving away the answer; 'the question is 29 take away 3, and you have a choice of four answers; do you think it is 30, or 16, OR 26 or 24?' Then you have to watch without comment as they choose the wrong answer. Saying 'Are you sure' is absolutely forbidden...
But I digress; a major part of the round-and-round-in-my-head-ness is caused by the increasing frailty of my 90 year old godmother. Unsurprisingly, two months of not being able to eat solid food, and existing on a liquid diet of tea, coffee, soup, and supplement drinks is taking its toll. From being nearly fully self-reliant she is becoming less and less able to cope. Add in a series of hospital appointments and tests, and most of us would be beginning to get confused. How I wish she lived just down the road, instead of an hour and a half away!
I've been tearing my hair rescheduling schools and pupils in order to be with her at the hospital, or when the doctor might be calling. Paper and pencil. Round we go again. Every new appointment means a slew of emails and telephone calls and reorganisations...
I'm also pushing down my own disappointment at setting aside what I'd like to do... I want to try and paint something from the Morris Dancers that were stomping their stuff in town yesterday while it is all fresh in my mind
and I've another bit of the story to write, and it's a glorious day for going down to the sea... There will be other days.
And the keep-the-dining-room-table plan has collapsed - hopefully only temporarily.
This morning I went out into the garden and pulled up several handfuls of weeds just to take a mental break from working out what time we wanted to leave to visit her, where to buy sandwiches for our lunch as she will have no food in the house for us (just cup soups and coffee and supplement drinks!) and what paperwork to take and remembering to fill the car with petrol.
Pulling up weeds and having another coffee and writing this blogpost seems to have done the trick. I think we have a plan.