Self-Sufficiency in Style
Changed mind
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Self-Sufficiency in Style Changed mind
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It wasn't that bad, just rather annoying. |
Recently, we tended to forget what had brought us to Hangman's Cottage in
the first place. The writer had retired very young, following a heart attack, and self-sufficiency had provided a very happy and healthy lifestyle for someone a little disabled. Not just that, but it was an interesting way of life, with, in its own way, excitement, intellectual content and a sense of achievement. Part of the reason for writing Self-sufficiency in Style was to encourage others in similar circumstances to do the same. |
| When a series of disasters
hit last year, a degree of panic set in. Mrs P became exhausted after spending day after day at the hospital and providing 24 hour nursing the rest of the time. The writer, surfacing occasionally from the sea of drugs that accompanies any operation these days, became very concerned. The best prognosis was that he would be out of action for at least 6 and possibly 12 months. Although the livestock went immediately he became ill, the house had already suffered and a winter with no attention had done nothing to improve things. The walled garden was overgrown and the fruit trees unpruned. Oddly enough, the writing continued, sometimes through sleepless and painful nights. Unremembered essays, emails and letters littered the hard-drive. Written on auto-pilot they were surprisingly literate, with occasional lapses in taste, temper and good sense. Coleridge was not the only one to write in a narcotic haze. |
Drugged Out! |
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Head banging beams. |
"Flick of the switch" central
heating seemed attractive, instead of the constant scratching about for
kindling. The chore of bringing in the logs had lost its appeal. Banging your head on low beams and falling down stairs is not a recommended accompaniment to blood thinning drugs, so high ceilings and a bungalow seemed only prudent. Drugs and driving don't mix, so town seems more practical than remote countryside. Top shelves in the study call for a radical redesign of writing accommodation. We agreed, it was time for a change in lifestyle. Hangman's Cottage had to go. |
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Things suddenly changed. |
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Despite all the problems, we learned that the actual operations had been a
complete success with a difficult and potentially lethal cancer extricated
from an awkward place.
After recuperation, life could again be lived at full throttle. None of the feared complications had arisen. The subsequent pneumonia and emergency readmission was just bad luck and now in the past. The blood clot that had erupted had not gone anywhere nasty. The rest of the problems were a mystery, probably related to other old and half-forgotten illnesses. The writer, always very suspicious of drugs, and against all advice, stopped all drugs. It was a very dangerous thing to do, some were guarding against the very real risk of a stroke. Whether that worked, or not, nobody knows, but quite suddenly, six months to the day from the big operation, his mind cleared and he began to sleep...from, at most two hours at a time, to fifteen at a stretch. Mrs P joined him in the relief, the pair snoozing away like a couple of exhausted over-partying teenagers. |
Catching Up. |
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At first, the penny did not drop. The writer staggered about inspecting his domain. |
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The black plastic was an attempt to keep the weeds under some control. |
"We can't sell it like this,"
he insisted, "It is a disaster that I would be ashamed to show to anyone." It was agreed that an electrician should be employed to improve the lighting and emergency generating facility. A builder friend turned up with family to give the darker recesses a lick of paint. The outbuildings were all tidied. A scratch gang of family arrived with strimmers, chainsaws and assorted implements to beat back the encroaching thickets. A digger was brought in to remove rotting hay. The place buzzed with activity. |
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The impact was amazing. It is surprising just how much a place deteriorates over a few months. It is equally surprising just how quickly it can be brought back to life and elegance with youthful vigour and rather older pride and diligence. |
Planted beds quickly replaced weeds and plastic. |
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The penny still did not drop. The cuckoo arrived and the woodpecker could be heard in the meadow. Primroses and bluebells showed in the lane. We continued to plan our departure. |
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Coffee break. |
It was the first really warm
and sunny day of
Spring that changed everything. We sat out in the walled garden with a coffee. Always degrees warmer than that outside, this placid secretive world was at peace. The garden overgrown, but still lovely, with trees in blossom and birds singing. We looked at one another, "What the hell are we doing?" "I was just thinking the same thing." |
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So, we are not going. We are going to stay. Sure, there will have to be some changes, but not as many as we thought. The writer is rapidly getting fit again with six hour stints in the garden. Social life is resuming with friends to dinner. The changes will be exciting, and sensible too. We will tell you all about them later. |
Not any more. |
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...change but no change - at the contradictory Hangman's Cottage, just to the south of Misery Corner. May,2005 |
