And the rest…

The world seems to be imploding and a lot has happened since I last wrote. I lie in bed some mornings and write blogs in my head (and sometimes in those wakeful hours in the middle of the night) but rarely actually write them down. Not sure why today is different and I hope it doesn’t meander through too many side roads. I thought I had started writing one a few months ago but sadly it hadn’t saved in my drafts folder. So from scratch then…

Just after writing my last blog I was diagnosed with Lyme disease. I had been feeling a bit achy, slight numbness in parts of my body, fuzzy brain, generally tired and even napping in the day but I guessed that’s what happens when you get old. I had an insect bite on my shoulder blade which had been around a couple of months and I realised that that was not quite right one morning. Sending a photo of it to the doctor led to a phone call and blood tests. A trip to A&E resulted in some antibiotics and advice to rest. My blood test showed active Lyme bacteria and a dormant one that was many years old. An urgent MRI was requested by my doctor which came through eventually for mid-November. Am feeling much better but still have some days when I am really tired, have achy legs, and the numbness feels more weird than usual but it doesn’t prevent me from doing anything. Justin Timberlake was diagnosed around the same time so he’s in good company.

So, the advice to rest as much as possible led me to think about what that would mean. I had a chat with my lovely friend Ness and we agreed that we had spent most of our lives working hard and playing hard but that didn’t involve any actual ‘rest’. Even holidays with the kids were full on – working full time as a single parent meant that the holidays were filled up with as much as possible to maximise active time with my kids (clearly, they may have a different take on those holiday memories). So I have been practising resting. It has confused the cats who join me every now and then as I stay in bed for longer in the morning, or binge-watch something on the telly (Slow Horses, wow). I think I can handle the resting but I still feel guilty about it.

My last blog ended with me getting ready to meet my half sister and begin to unearth more information about Dad 3. I realise I have 3 ‘Dads’ – Dad 1 (my actual dad who taught me how to high-jump in the garden and was an inspiration throughout my life), Dad 2 (my birth mother’s husband who is the sweetest man and lives in Dorset) and Dad 3 (Harry the gambling man who liked fast cars, fishing and was a ladies’ man). A bit like a Dr Seuss story – Dad 1, Dad 2 and Dad 3.

Meeting Debbie was fantastic. We were both slightly nervous but we got on really well and realised that we were probably not the only ones in our genetic family. She is great and we have met up a few times over the last few months. We found another sister and perhaps another brother. Not everyone wants to be ‘found’ which is understandable. Debbie and I are off to the police station to meet a Detective Inspector who has more information around the murder and trial of Harry’s murderers. I can’t wait (weirdly there is a programme on Radio 4 while I write this about someone’s dad who was murdered – a bit distracting). It feels like I should write a book but as I find it hard enough to write a blog regularly, I think a book would be a big ask. I did start a book years ago and then a friend needed a PC and I had a spare one which I gave her. I forgot that my ‘book’ was on the hard drive…

And Sicily. I was lucky to spend a week travelling round southern Sicily with a great friend. I can’t say too much as will be going back again next year. But I love Sicily – the food is incredible – too many delicious things to name but the tomatoes (even better that those from Conil, in my opinion) and the freshest bufala mozzarella cheese (straight from the buffalo, Husbant will understand) need a special mention. The wine is too drinkable – Etna has an ever-present wow factor as it steams constantly. The mineral-rich soil produces delicious wines. One quick story from our travels is worth telling and won’t be a spoiler. We were heading to a ceramics shop in Caltagirone and saw a farmer selling tomatoes and grapes by the side of the road. Oooh! Shall we buy some? Yesssss – even though we only had one more day in our airbnb and probably didn’t need a load of tomatoes, the temptation was too great. The bags of tomatoes were 4kg for €10. A bargain. But we didn’t want 4kgs. We wanted 2kgs at the most. Our best haggling had no impact. The farmer wasn’t budging. The tomatoes shone bright and red in the sunshine saying “eat me”. We folded and bought 4kgs of tomatoes. When we got back to our airbnb, we emptied out the bag. And that’s when we realised the reason the farmer wouldn’t give us half a bag. The beautiful tomatoes were about two inches deep. The rest of the bag were a little bashed, old and wouldn’t win anything at a vegetable show. But oh my – we had a good fill of fresh delicious tomatoes and I even managed to bring some home to cook for Husbant. He can’t wait to go next year.

Time to get up! For no relevant reason, I dedicate this blog to my friend Alison who is running 50km around Kent this weekend. Best of luck, box of frogs.