Costin, Marina and I had a great day in magnificent weather on Saturday. We went to the market, took in Sandwell beach, had lunch at The Surf and came home to spa and enjoy champagne, hammock rides and dinner together. Costin—miracle of miracles—cooled the hot tub and showed me how to shut if off to make it quiet when I want total silence.
Sunday morning I went to the community dog walk and Costin prepped the ravioli he made on the pasta machine he and Marina gave me. Then we went to Drumbeg and passed the rest of the afternoon just chilling as the weather turned cool and wet.
When we were at Drumbeg, Sheba got absolutely filthy. The soil is black like old firerpit ash and she turned black in places. As soon as I got home, I had to give her a bath and then she was a total love bucket. She smelled so good and her hair was so soft and fragrant (I used Lavender soap), I could not stop cuddling with her.
Leon, my late kitty cat, was a lover. He was always on me or right beside me and it inculcated an incredible bod. Sheba is like that, thank God.
Marina and Costin were absolutely smitten with my pets. They are wining the “best guests so far” title at Pinecone Park. They loved playing with them all the time. They left on a 7:15 flight last night and I came home for the new season of Endeavour but I couldn’t stay awake for it.
Today I’m off to the city to see Dr. S. Then I get a couple of days to chill on my own before Bruce arrives on Thursday to spend a few days here.
My hips and feet are shot. They hurt all the time—especially my feet. One finger won’t work at all, one eye isn’t working and I have seizures. As a child, I dreaded death; I had no idea about the slow decay that precedes it.
When I look out at my yard and think of all the wood stacking, gardening and garbage sorting and toting, I wonder how long I can sustain it. I have to get onto some kind of exercise program. That will be something to undertake soon.
I also want to try to get to visit some friends on other islands with Sheba. I’m hoping to do some day trips; visiting Dianne was such a wonderful adventure.
Having C-PTSD means, for me, being almost a prisoner at Pinecone Park; I’m reliant on friends visiting me. Day trips will stimulate me and become another portal to friends and more socializing—and the visits will be short.