103. Oh well...

Email today from the Planning Officer, via Cllr Anderson, confirming that Miller Homes complete their purchase of the land around us today and intend commencing work next week. S/he expects to provide a list of people residents can contact if they have concerns; in other words, it’s nowt to do with the Planning Office so don’t bother! It’s been inevitable for so long but deadlines have passed and I’ve kind of assumed maybe they’d start next year. There’s the road to sort out and a new roundabout before the housing surely? And that was scheduled for April. It’s going to cause chaos and, as the PO said, it will last 8 years.

If things had been different, we would have moved by now. I’d whittled it down to two or three properties to consider more seriously when we kind of got distracted by all this rubbish. Now I’m close to recuperating and what will I have? EIGHT years of building, nosy construction workers, constant noise and no privacy. Plus a confused and agitated cat. I could weep. I look at that beautiful view and despair. Lisa is resigned to it and more concerned with the 5 metre boundary and whether it will be ours. All I can think of is the 23 prospective upper floor windows that will soon overlook our property, never mind the downstairs windows and a blank wall we’ll have as part of our view.

Wednesday I got my knitted knocker through the post, a bit squashed by the postman but it’s resilient. I had a little tear in my eye: ‘a gift from one woman to another.’ So many women hit by this disease for which I can find no adjective. Useless? Pointless? Destructive? Vile? Horrid? The fact is, it’s a disease like any other - they’re all as bad as each other in some way. Back to my knitted knocker. It came in a voile bag, with some spare stuffing to get it to size, a packet of love hearts and some green yarn, the purpose of which I’m not sure - either to stitch it up when I’ve go the right size (there’s too much for that) or to add a nipple if I so desire. If a green nipple makes your mind boggle, I could have ordered this knocker in sky blue pink with black dots on if I’d wanted. I chose flesh colour:

“Knitted with love and filled with hope”

It was free, knitted to size - I underestimated and probably should have got a 36 - and I only learnt about it last week. As soon as the 21 days are up, I’ll try on a proper bra and see how it feels. I know the ‘softie’ provided by the hospital felt like a lead weight but this is so much softer. In the meantime, this is day 11 and I still only have a mild itch on the slightly red patch above my scar, plus some pain in the muscle - but nothing noteworthy. I’m getting off lightly, though the itch is getting sorer each day as I try hard not to scratch.

Yesterday was beautiful and this afternoon was almost as good, though more breezy. It’s the closest we’ve got to hot weather this year and I’ve sat outside reading. Blissful. Just one problem. Well, two because the book is lousy. I have to protect myself from the sun for the next 12 months! So I ended up feeling like Lawrence of Arabia, arranging my scarf layers to ensure not an inch of radiated (?) skin was exposed and the layers of fabric were impenetrable. Add to that my ‘virgin’ scalp which hasn’t seen the sun since I sat in my pram in 1951, when doubtless I wore one of those daft bonnets babies used to wear!

This was before I swapped my jumper for a strappy vest and cotton shirt. Today I got braver: shorts, vest and shirt, sun hat and/or SPF30 on my scalp. But still the scarf, strategically placed.

Note the blue sky above the fence. Soon there will be houses there :)