Walling

The large pile of stones that used to be our kitchen wall, that has sat outside our kitchen window for over a year, has at last been carried, stone by stone, to the back of the house, and made into a garden wall... partly to give us a bit more of a separation from the street, partly to deter the dogs which like to wander onto the grass and use it as a toilet. L did a dry-stone walling course last summer and has been promising to do this ever since.

First L dug the trench for the foundations, then she and J began to lay the stones. I made coffee, and later lunch, and in between times continued to carry stones from front to back.

Choosing the next stone...

Getting there...

And yesterday L and I completed the project! It will have some soil put into the cracks and crevices, and eventually small alpine plants will grow there. We'll have to find homes for the spare stones too!

Overcoming

This Census thing seems to be having an unexpectedly positive impact on my spirits. I think it's partly just that thing of feeling a bit busier, a bit more purposeful. Also overcoming fears and mastering something. I was sent to an area I found at first sight a little 'challenging'. Got a bit anxious about my car being vandalized, scary dogs and so forth. I spent a few hours knocking on doors there yesterday afternoon in the sunshine, and all was gentle. A little girl on a bike became my guide, finding the next house for me, knocking on some of the doors for me, giving a view on whether these or these people would be home. The scariest it got was a couple of people cynical and a little surly about the purpose of the Census. I got my doorstep routines off pat, and ended up quite enjoying myself. Then the car wouldn't start, and I realised I'd left my mobile phone behind, and the sun was pounding down, car like an oven. And by then I was very ready to go home, and rather in need of the toilet. I remained (for me) calm, and gave it a few minutes before trying the ignition again. And again, and playing the gas pedal a little, and - it started!! Not quite sure what this is about - it's happened a few times lately, but always starts at the third or fourth attempt. Anyway, I took this as a good sign, this obstacle so swiftly removed.

I've also got my preparation to do for the first teaching session with the medical students after Easter. It's about team working, and de Bono's 6 hat model. It's not the most exciting material ever, but I'm having a think about what I might add to it from my own experience of teams and groups. Again, nice to feel purposeful, and, well ... employed! On another very positive note I received a big cheque from the school for my work in March. It will pay off my overdraft anyway! Should get first Census pay on Friday, and then maybe I can begin to retrieve the financial fiasco.

Too Bright For Me

Sleep was in short supply last night, but not for the same reason as before. Oh yes, I have a portfolio of insomnias. This one was largely hormonal. Ironic to get the better of the panics only to have oestrogen jump in (or possibly jump out) and wreck it all.

Here in West Yorkshire we seem to have taken the shortcut to summer today. I sit here with the door open, the sky is cloudless blue, the sun strong and bright. It's beautiful, and it's bit of a shock. My body is till creeping out of winter, especially when it hasn't had enough sleep, so the brightness, the heat, and the mood of elation out in the world feels a bit exposing, a bit exhausting. Better now I'm home. L started a migraine yesterday. This is how it goes with her - she gets a hole in her vision and the aura of zigzags and flashing lights, but only the mildest of headaches and no nausea. But she has to go to bed in a darkened room, and stay there til night comes, and beyond. She's just back from a short walk with sunglasses and hat, and seems to be ok.

I Shall (Not) Wear Purple

So I started Census collecting this afternoon, and of course, as you know, I can tell you nothing about it. Except that some people don't have letterboxes, most people don't have doorbells, and a significant proportion don't have house numbers. The first important lesson I learned about how to approach the job was to make sure to choose a decent pair of knickers to wear, one which does not creep slowly down around your hips towards your thighs as you walk about your enumeration district, carrying a clipboard and a shoulder bag, thereby necessitating inelegant hitching, probably not destined to present the 2011 Census operation in the very best light. Also perhaps not to wear purple. It was pointed out to me that I was colour-co-ordinated with the Census logo. Urk.

Excellent news on the sleep front. It was friend J's birthday on Tuesday night, so we went to the pub for beer and food, early because she was in the middle of her working week. Home by about nine, and in bed by about quarter to ten. I got a bit twitchy to start with, felt the old panic thing in belly and chest. But somehow I managed to let go of it and settle to a halfway decent night's sleep. Not top of the range, but serviceable. I felt elated in the morning just to feel normal not sleep-deprived, as I headed off to work at the school... Tomorrow's my other work morning, so let us hope I can repeat the performance tonight. Then university Fridays will be over for a few weeks, and only one more school Wednesday. Then it'll be Census all the way til early May, but at only 15 hours a week, I reckon I'll be able to feel on holiday a bit too.

Caliban

How I feel, at times, like a mad person, ungrounded, obsessional, checking, going over details, imagining. How I don't relax into the moment. The dead mouse in the black trap, instrument of death. Why not pink? The snap of the trap I didn't hear because I wear earplugs, but people say they do hear them in the night (that's all I need...) Now there is muted light and the sound of children's voices from the school playground. There is ink flowing from a pen, and wind funneling down a flue. And there are daffodils, large and yellow, their petals now beginning to curl and brown faintly at the edges. It's lunchtime for some though the taste of coffee and of strawberry jam is still vivid. Resignation settles on me as a man walks past with his hands clasped behind his back, the way he always walks. The man with short white hair and a sombre face who walks round here a lot. What is this immense sadness? We are tantalised somehow by the just unreachable beauty of life, like Caliban crying to dream again. I think of J whose mother has just died, and my own father dead 23 years. And of A now alive just that long - six months longer than my father has been dead. So much of it comes to me grimly. Death and separation and what is not. The ivy shivers on the school wall. The sound of an unidentified power tool. I am grateful. But these things can't save me. Cheerful A who came to measure up for a new fence, a log store and raised beds - his bounce and almost theatrical enthusiasm. He left me feeling briefly charged, excited, as though perhaps life could be a series of adventures and challenges.

Poor Mousy

Setting the traps again with their peanut butter bait. Abiding image of my day has been the stocky looking mouse, caught by the neck before ever getting to enjoy the PNB, we disposed of this morning. Strange mixed feelings of horror, shame and satisfaction.

Poor mousy lies dead in the dustbin...

Epic

Insomnia on an epic scale last night leaves me tonight at home while L goes out for drinks with our gang of friends. I'm listening to Rufus Wainwright and sipping a beer, and feeling not too bad as long as I don't have to do anything much, and gently anticipating the earliest of nights. It's such a relief when these episodes pass, it's tempting to put them out of mind, but I'm doing my best to talk about the problem to L as much as I can, because I just have to deal with this or it's going to deal with me. Two hours' sleep is not even close to enough, and worse than that, spending half the night in simmering panic is just ruinous for the nervous system. I get away with it (just) because I only work mornings at the moment. It's the afternoon when I plummet from sleep-deprivation. Next week could see the advent of proprietary sleep medicines in these parts.
I really do fear that I'm dying
I really do fear that I'm dead
singeth Rufus. Oh, there are such moments...