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Life Blog – Just Living

What a difference a project makes. It gives me a sense of purpose and direction. I can see things develop and take shape. Now this week I had an upset tummy on Thursday and Friday so on the practical side I was not much help. But I look and check.

If you look at the door handle above there is a horrible gap in the white wood adjacent to it. Look further and the wood used here for the door stop is not even the same as on the top and other side of the door. So now we have redone the door stop.

Much better. With an old house it’s a balancing act. Keep enough of the old to keep its character but know when to replace. In this case this was clearly a bodged repair from circa 1978, so it needed replacing.

Likewise on the stairs which were installed in the 1970s the woodwork is awful and done as cheaply as possible. A little beading work gives it a lift.

We work well together and make time for fun while doing it.

At times like this I feel very alive, the world is turning and I am in step with it. The Olympics have been very inspiring too and as a Brit especially so. I feel like a man living a life, doing stuff. It’s normal and I like it.



Life Blog – Living This Life

Recently on our sister site picturebeast.wordpress.com which hosts “The Antics of Worth and Gates” I talked about the fight you face when confronting the Big C. 

“With any test victory or defeat is determined by establishing the criteria that frames the battle. So if the battle is for the life of Worth then ultimately, Worth and Gates will lose that battle. If the battle is to destroy the love of Worth and Gates, then clearly there is a different team victorious. Such contemplation is the stuff that helps Worth defeat melancholia. He loves being a winner”.

Tonight I came home from work a little early feeling tired and achy. Mrs P had spent 2 hours sanding down the front door making it ready for painting. Peanut considered that the prepping was complete. I however did not and using all the strengths of my unique northern charm I told her so. In minutes we were shouting at each other. There were tears. It was not the me coming home and falling into the arms of the one I love scenario that is what this house is all about.

I might have had a fair point, I might not – that is not what matters. I thought back to the words I had written just the week before. This is how the Big C can destroy. It brings pain. With that comes irritation and then things get said in a less than tactful way. From nowhere that which you hold most precious to you – the love you have for each other – gets challenged and undermined. Luckily in this house we talked, then talked some more and we emerged from this gloom stronger and more determined to guard and cherish that which we hold dear. 

A friend Wendy messaged us telling us to watch a Tv programme called Great Canal Journeys with Prunella Scales and Timothy West. Tonight’s episode was Venice a city dear to our hearts and one we hoped to revisit in three weeks time. Prunella Scales has Alzheimer’s  and Timothy has written poignantly about watching her slip away from him. 

Now in their troisième âge they are doing this delightful canal series. Tonight they bumbled around all the places we have explored in Venice and it made for delightful, touching, interesting and entertaining television.

Their tenderness to each other in their troisième âge was the perfect counterpoint to the anger expressed earlier in our house. We naturally drew closer to each other on the sofa and yes, I did feel sad because this was supposed to be the life we shared in our old age – bumbling about as old explorers, lovers and best friends and we will be denied that. But the programme was too beautiful to allow such a sentiment to spoil it and we both loved watching it.

This is life. Real. “Your perfect imperfections” is a quote from Peanut’s favourite song because she says that she knows that is how I feel about her and she is dead right.

Love, as it should, triumphs in this household and tonight I will get Biggles read to me at bedtime.