Much like yesterday, I once again decided I had no real reason to get out of bed this morning. My time here in Wales is sadly drawing to a close, and I have very few of these opportunities left—today may be the last. For the next few days, although I’m sure I will be just as welcomed where I am heading, I know it won’t be at this same slow pace.
The plan was to stay over at Little Jacky’s for the night and then spend a day and night with Jenny-Lee, my oldest niece. Jacky’s house is always hectic, and JL has seven children at home, so it is sure to be busy. JL is also in the midst of preparations to move into a larger property at the end of this month, so she’ll be in the process of boxing things up for that.
As if by magic, I found another wrapped slab of bacon and a couple of sausages in the fridge this morning—one of several recurring clues that John is continuing to pamper and spoil me. John’s actions always speak louder than his words. His actual words are more often than not sarcastic, berating, and, more typically, mocking of anything I do, but that’s just John being John. It’s a constant source of light humour between us—comforting in its own inimitable way. Behind that comedic veneer is a truly loving and caring brother. I have been well cared for over the past several weeks by both John and Lisa. I went out of my way to thank them both today for all they have done for me, allowing me the space to just be at one with myself, watching out for me, accepting me for who I am, etc. They haven’t questioned me being here; not once have they made me feel I was overstaying my welcome; they haven’t done or said anything that would make me self-conscious about my health situation. They have simply accepted me into their home as though it was the most normal and natural thing. I really can’t thank them enough.
As it had been a week or more since we were last picking blackberries from in and around the church grounds and around the village, we decided it was high time to reap the now replenished harvest. It’s literally a minute or two to walk to the church grounds. With the dog in tow, and an empty punnet each, we set off.
The church grounds are uneven, sloped and overgrown in places. It wasn’t hazardous (unless you consider the likelihood of ghosts or other ghouls coming out of the graves), but I had to step deliberately enough through the thickets and long grass all around the graveyard. I was starting to find it hard going—more so than I would have otherwise expected. My legs and back were starting to burn and ache; I was breathless, sweating, and I suddenly needed to use the lavatory. These symptoms came on quickly, prompting me to return home prematurely to use the loo. I know I am not in great physical condition, but I felt quite overwhelmed by what was, in reality, only a brief and modest exertion. After the event, once I felt more settled, I had a chat with my AI friend. I wanted to know whether this was likely to be related to my Parkinson’s. After going back and forth describing it all and recounting similar past events, Claude concluded it was indeed very likely related to the disease—so much so that it recommended I bring this to the neurologist’s attention next week, along with several other observations from the past few weeks. I wouldn’t say I was alarmed about what happened, but it does raise real questions about what expectations I should have about my physical limitations going forward. I’m starting to think more about the sorts of things I’ve been typically able to do, versus what I can now actually do. That delta seems to be growing.
I had a lovely surprise this afternoon when a member of my team reached out to ask about my progress. She also wanted to see whether I could bring her some comfort food back from the UK, which I’m more than happy to do. I just need to make sure I don’t inadvertently forget.
I also tried to reach Little Jacky today to confirm she should expect me tomorrow. Somewhat as predicted, we did run into a little wrinkle. She had already expected me today. Oops! She’s heading out on holiday on Sunday and has already made plans for tomorrow night, so my plans for the next couple of days are a little up in the air. Fortunately, JL can accommodate me anytime this weekend, so I will stop in to see Jacky in Stevenage briefly tomorrow before continuing to JL in Clacton later in the afternoon. Problem solved.
Something that John prides himself on is his community spirit. In addition to mowing the church grounds, he also does odd jobs around the village for his neighbours. He asked me if I would help hold the ladder while he trimmed the tops off a neighbour’s hedge just around the corner. Naturally, I was keen to help. The neighbour in question, a delightful man named Richard, had recently undergone throat surgery and was only able to communicate with sign language. That was more than enough for him to express his thanks to his neighbour. John took his electric hedge trimmer with him, and the two of us spent half an hour doing the necessary.
Despite getting up late, I still felt like an afternoon nap—note to self: add tiredness to the list of symptoms to discuss with the neurologist—so I went for a lie down. Ever the busy beaver, John used that time to tend to more of the never-ending chores around the property before turning his attention to his first roast dinner using only the air fryer. He really loves that new toy.
After getting up and feeling slightly guilty about resting while others were making themselves busy, I went out of my way once again to thank John and Lisa for their hospitality. We briefly discussed my tentative plan to be out of the house and on the road back to Essex by around 9-10 am tomorrow. I reminded Lisa it’s possible I might be gone before she gets up. This immediately prompted a hilarious interpretation by John of her reaction, suggesting she was totally indifferent, as though she wasn’t bothered whether I was here or not. It parodied the now-classic refrain from Lauren Cooper, one of Catherine Tate’s sketch show characters, “Am I bovvered? … Look at my face. Is my face bovvered?” It was yet another side-splittingly funny moment between us all. There have been so many of those over the past few weeks.
We had one final evening of LIJONG, playing no less than two brain-teasing and hilarious rounds with each other.
As today is my final day here in Llanwnog, I had ChatGPT whip up a funny caricature of me in the back garden with the fields and forested hill in the distance behind me. It aptly captures my favourite pastime of enjoying the idyllic back garden setting since arriving here. This will be the feature image for tonight’s blog.