Monday, 29 August 2011
Not funny if relatively near the end of it one finds oneself in a home a million miles, mentally, from the one you know.
Hot on the heels of the distressing time with Mark's mother, my mum had a stroke and went into hospital. Then followed weeks of me voyaging back and forth to the old grey rock to try and work out how to comfort, how to proceed in the next chapter of life - the ageing parent part of the manual has not been overly explored . . .
Having said that, we did try very hard to get her to come down here. Planned the small 'granny house', a cute mini-house next to ours where she could have listened 'ad infinitum' to Ezra playing the drums and Mark tinkling the ivories. Maybe that's why she couldn't quite make the move. Actually, it was the pull of Dorset for her: the rounded comfortable hills, familiarity, knowing where she was on the planet. Perhaps we all become thus, even us wanderers . . . we have been here now for nearly ten years and this landscape seems to be where I feel at home; possibly a bit nearer the sea . . . not sure, but I would like to grow a bougainvillea/lemon tree in the ground.
I found mum a very nice 'home' with the help of my cousin. An old early C20th manor: a bit creaky and warmly comfortable, not sterile and brisk like others I saw and have visited in the past. Huge forest grounds, with perhaps a glimpse of the distant hills near the sea when winter has removed the leafage.
Mums room is like a little cozy sitting room with quite a bit of her own furniture and personal items, pictures etc. A little eyrie, up in the tree tops, peaceful. However it is not, or ever will be true 'home' and Mum will probably never really accept the move, despite lack of alternatives - meaning her house, but I hope it will become easier for her.
So, we should all probably plan for this stage. Several friends are already on the lookout for a domain where they can be surround by likeminded folk with live in staff etc. Sounds good, but I suspect we'll just muddle along hoping that not a lot changes until we just fall off the Earth one day with no complications.
Recent events have meant I have changed my direction (again) am now writing a book, not a kids one this time, and am loving it. At the moment concentrating on being in the studio is not possible, being on the move and writing is the silver lining for the present time.
Monday, 8 August 2011
We never did find out as we left Salon de Provence to go to Nice for three day family break.
Nice was California-esque as we expected but ace place with excellent art galleries and miles of fantastic promenade for people-watching. Worth doing too! More leathery-brown old women covered in gold than one could shake a poodle at; posing men in tight white jeans, and beautiful young things in Prada.
We were mangy by comparison, but I did paint my toenails.
More photos to follow.