Things Go Moo In The Night…

I just don’t fit into British clothing, even the plus-size stuff. I’ve tried ordering British clothes and even though I follow the sizing very carefully, the clothes never fit. Neither do the shoes. So I shop on line through internet catalogs back home in America.

Over the past three years I’ve tried to build up a decent, tidy wardrobe full of colour and cheer. Being a buxom woman I tend to go for the loose styles like kaftans or big button-up shirts.

Well! Why is it that stuff looks really nice on the internet and then when you get it in the mail it’s horrid stuff? Gaudy, cheap, too BRIGHT… what gives?? Do they altar the photos on the internet or something? My favourite was the kaftan I ordered that had almost Hungarian-style embroidery on the chest. When it arrived I found that the flowers were three dimensional! Gaaauuuudy!

Anyhoo, I’ve been forcing myself to wear all this crazy stuff that I’ve bought on-line because… well, I paid for it. Money doesn’t grow on trees. And to pay for the stuff to be shipped back would not make the refund worth it because Royal Mail is super expensive.

But seriously, I give up. I can’t take the stuff any more! So I’m giving it all to a local charity shop where folk can buy it for Fancy Dress or whatever. (Curtains maybe?)

Apparently Orkney cannot make up its mind about spring/not spring. Elspeth and I were out for a walk in the sunshine, bright daffodils lining the streets and birds twittering away… when suddenly it began to snow.

Right.

Father-in-law (FIL) wanted a private funeral so that’s what’s being planned.

I’ve taken my black dress out and hung it up so that it won’t get dreadfully wrinkled. My black tights arrived but my black shoes have not so I’ll have to wear my grey Mary Janes. I’ve a dark grey felt hat with black feathers and I hope I can get it to stay on my head.

I cleaned the house (with the invaluable help of V~~~) mostly for Erlend so that he could rest when he came inside and so that he wouldn’t feel mortified if people came by. We’ve a small collection of sympathy cards on the kitchen counter and he’s on the phone right now speaking to folk about the funeral.

I hope I’m strong enough for Erlend when the funeral arrives. It’s easy to be detatched here on the farm while working… but funerals wack you upside the head like a brick. I thought I was tough but I totally broke down at my friend’s funeral. A firefighter, he had died in the line of duty. I got up to say a few words and ended up spending a minute with my back turned to everyone else while I sucked air and got myself under control. Then, to my astonishment, I had everyone laughing as I told hilareous stories of my friend’s adventures training all of us rookie firefighters. Like that time with his coat…

We had been called out to a car crash that was located in the boonies. Moose vs. Car. Never pretty. I, a fat firefighter, and my fellow rookie, also a fat firefighter, somehow managed to stuff ourselves into the cab of the brush truck with our training officer - my late friend, C~~~~

When we pulled out of the fire station C~~~ was trying to find the radio so that he could call dispatch and let them know we were en route. But he had no luck and after a quick search it turned out that I was sitting on the silly thing. And there was no way on God’s green earth that myself or my partner could move enough to retrieve the radio - we were absolutely crammed in place. So C~~~ pulled over and while I and my partner unstuffed ourselves from the cab I somehow managed to drag C~~’s fire coat out with me. I didn’t realize this until I was standing on it. In a puddle.

Well, when you’re a rookie you get caught up in the moment so I forgot about to coat once C~~~ started ordering us back into the truck. When we arrived on scene, C~~~ threw his fire coat on and his arms suddenly shot out to the sides like a big capitol “T”. The look on his face was priceless. The only medic on secne, I sped past him towards the wounded folk while managing to say, “I uh… kinda dropped your coat in a puddle. And stood on it. Sorry!”

C~~~ never let me live that down. Heh. Too bad he didn’t live in order to keep making me not live that down.

Death sucks. I know it’s a part of life but it still sucks. At least FIL got to live a long life before he died and wasn’t snuffed out like C~~~ at 42 years of age and Mom at 47. It’s at least a bit comforting to know that FIL passed at the age of 83.

After a long, painful, and awful end to his life, my poor father-in-law has passed away. Part of me is relieved, just like I was when the suffering of my cancer-ridden mother finally ended. The other part of me is pissed because once again I and my baby have been cheated of having a parent in our life. Yeah, I’m selfish.

We got the news first thing this morning and I’ve been desparately attacking the house before the news spreads and folk come to see my husband. I’ve just not been fit to do much more then basica maintenence so the house is trashed. I had to prioritize: 1) clean at least enough to keep scum from growing on the walls. 2) Keep baby clean, fed, and happy. 3) Get main meal on table each day.

Although I’m not working hard at this chapter in my life I know what it’s like to stagger home after a killer day only to have to try and scrape some crappy food together. The least I can do is fix Erlend a good, hot meal - even if the house is full of clutter! Going up the stairs is sheer hell for me at this point so I have accumulated quite an untidy bunch of organized piles of things-I’m-doing. So now I’m attempting to do the dash and stash and cram all these piles upstairs out of sight.

Thank goodness I did a deep clean back when my father-in-law first began to get very ill. Now hopefully I can get the clutter out of sight, get the floors mopped and vaccumed and at least have the downstairs looking decent. I know what it’s like to deal with someone that has died. I’ve had so many people die on me in the past ten years - from a man that was courting me to my own mother. I’m a professional mourner. I could hire myself out! So yeah, as odd as this sounds, it’s a real relief to be able to relax in a *tidy* hoose that isn’t as chaotic as what’s going on inside of your heart.

Hopefully I can at least give that to Erlend.

Ok, back to work. It’ll do me good: seem’s I’ve gone stright into the anger part of mourning. I used to get like this when a patient died, back when I was a medic. “WHY’D THEY DIE?!?!?! Grrrrr!!”

To any of you that might be interested in “Plain Song” a.k.a. Gregorian chant ~ or history in general ~ you’ll be thrilled to know that this ancient beautiful art is being revived here in ORKNEY of all places!!

If you would like to have a peek at the goings on regarding Chant here in Orkney then check out this new blog by our Chant teacher, Ben:

Gregorian Chant in Orkney

On a mildly related Catholic note: I hope you had a blessed Saint Patrick’s day! This is a rather big holy day back home in America but it seems that some people are trying to re-write history. I received an engaging book that asserts that Saint Patrick was not Catholic and that the church here in Britian/Ireland during that time was an independent “Celtic Church” that was not Catholic. I asked a certain Priest if this was the case and he sent me here - a fantastic article that very quickly answers this claim. So if you’re interested, go have a gander at that and happy Saint Patrick’s day, ya’ll!!

Here’s to Gregorian Chant in Orkney and to a revival of our beautiful, ancient traditions!

I’m never one to back off and quit when things get tough - but my body sure is these days! First I had to give up driving. Then I had to give up riding horses and hiking in any kind of terrain that isn’t smooth and easy. My leg has decided that Thou shalt not… a bit too much as far as I’m concerned! Even sitting here at the computer typing this post is killing my leg ~ and it’ll spasm for HOURS afterwards! Arrrrrrg…

I’ve been trying to find a new outdoor activity that I can enjoy within my new and frustrating limitations. I’m sick of being indoors all of the time!

Well, tonight I was reading through The Orcadian when I came across an article about the Orkney Yole Association.

Oh my.

My first thought: “What in the world is a yole?!”

My second thought: “Oh cool, it’s a wee sailboat! I’d totally buzz around in a yole if I could! Hmmm… maybe I should try and join?”

My third thought: “Uh… I can’t swim and I don’t know how to sail.”

And my final thought: “But I bet if I could get into a yole then I could see and experience Orkney without my stupid leg getting in my way!!!”

I’ve written them a note but the usual problem once again rears its ugly head:  I can’t drive. That’s the #1 reason I live like a near hermit in this beautiful, lovely place. I live on a gorgeous, rugged, wild island full of interesting and friendly people and… I spend all day on the farm bored out of my wits because I can’t drive.

Maybe I can get a yole on wheels that can be hauled by a coo???? Hmmmm. Another wacky idea!

Oh yeah, Les said they’d disapear when he wrangled Island Blogging over here to the new server. THANK YOU LES! I’m so glad that you’ve saved IB from an untimely death. I’ll bring the herd back after I ask Thorfinn’s Mom to remind me how to do it…

Ok, stupid question time: Yesterday Elspeth was beside herself. All day. She was one miserable wean. But every time I picked her up or lay down beside her on the floor (not an easy thing to do…) she was as happy as a clam at high tide.

Can babies get lonely even though you’re there in the same room? You see, I can’t get down onto the floor with the baby. My disabled leg + the Pelvis Of Doom really gets in the way. So Elspeth is often laying on her own on her quilt while I’m sitting nearby.

Then, she couldn’t stay asleep last night. Granted, she did wake up at 10:30pm with a poo diaper and hunger so that makes sense. But she didn’t eat much of her supper sook.

(Personally I was missing our wean and my arms were aching to hold her. As I sat there reading my book (”Druggers, 20 and Counting”) I kept looking at her empty quilt and missing her. So it was great to hold and kiss her at 10:30pm while she had a sook.)

But then she woke up again at 4am! We checked her nappy (nothing) and everything else and then went back to bed and ignored her. She fussed a while and eventually fell asleep. She woke up this morning and, as is her habit these days, lay quietly in her basket until daddy fetched her.

I can’t help but feel that Elspeth is noticing my lack of presence near her during the day. I do pick her up and hold her and I do talk with her! But not anywhere near as much as I want to. And I’m wondering if this is what makes her so fussy all day long. Until I bite the bullet and get down on the floor with her. Then she’s soooo happy.

I surfed the web and found this place, “The Monastery Store”, that sells meditation things. I ordered a kneeling mat, one of those slightly tilted benches, and a rectangular sitting cushion. My hope is that I can use this kneeling set-up to help spread out the pressure between my legs and my pelvis so I’m not just sitting on the hard floor. (That’s when my pelvis really screams!) My hope is that I can fit my calves under the bench ~ I ordered the large size, with the high end 9″ tall and the length 16″, but I’m fat so I don’t know if my legs will fit comfortably. If it doesn’t fit maybe I can find a joiner here in Orkney who can make me one in a custom size?? I don’t mind being fat but there’s not a lot out there that’s made in fat-people sizes.

The kneeling setup hasn’t arrived yet and I’m getting impatient.

I’ve also found a roll-up futon, 80cm wide by 200cm long. It’s at this place called DojoEco and maybe this’ll help me lie down beside Elspeth here and there throughout the day? Erlend hung a beautiful butterfly mobile that I bought from a Montessori catalog (It’s a Skyflight Mobile) over Elspeth’s quilt and she loves to look at it with me. That requires laying down…

I haven’t ordered the futon yet ~ I have to figure out how to do that. The DojoEco website doesn’t have buttons for buying stuff…

I have no idea if any of this is going to work. But I’ve GOT to find a way to interact with my baby!

Being disabled sucks. I never really cared much before but now it’s really getting in the way of me and my baby. Even being at playgroup is difficult. If this meditation-bench-pad-mat kneeling setup works then I’ll see a huge improvement in my ability to interact with Elspeth here at the house and anywhere else so I’m praying that it works!!

I’m a totaly, hormonal wreck. I’ve either a raging case of out-of-control PMS or I’m pregnant again. We’re waiting to see which…

Elspeth has been fussing non-stop allllllllll dayyyyyyy lonnnnnng… and my guess is, she’s doing this because I’m a hormonal wreck. I almost had a mental breakdown over potatoes for pity sake!! Erlend dared to eat the leftover tatties and I stomped around the kitchen muttering, “HOW could he do this to me?! WHY would he eat the leftover tatties??…” Then, I paused in mid-snarl and realize I was acting insane. It’s just potatoes, Michelle. Chill out…

We made a nice little play corner for Elspeth with mobiles and I’ve ordered two meditation mats that’ll fill the space nicely. She’s so delighted with her new space that she’s been fussing all day. I think the combonation of Psycho Mom and New Space is a bit too much for her to take in.

Erlend is awa picking up his new tractor. I’m about to go wash tatties. Just figured I’d come, blog, and chill out.

The Bishop came to our parish and we had a lovely mass but I did not cook anything for the buffet afterwards. Instead, K~~~~~ up the road came to the rescue with three boxes of her delicious home bakes.

Elspeth fusseth. I need to go wash tatties. I’m starving. And hormonal.

Cheerio!