Extreme Knitting Redhead: Odds and ends

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Odds and ends

I took this photo of the bridge in Bodiam whilst out on my run on Sunday. The river floods each year and this year it was as high as the top of the arches!

There was a 'Classic Car' show and fair there too so we popped along for a look. Lots of cars from the 60s and 70s that we remembered from growing up. There were also lots of veteran cars too and this one had to be photographed; not because it was the most remarkable or beautiful car there, but because it has a lovely sassy lady sitting in it. The car was a Hudson from around 1930 and a man looked longingly at it and remarked "beautiful!" to which the lady replied "yes, and the car's not bad either!" She was an elderly lady but she still had a lovely twinkle in her eyes.

There are always lots of stalls and attractions at these sort of things and there was a birds of prey stand with lots of owls and a falcon. This little chap was eager to have his photo taken. He's a Barn Owl, one of our native owls.

Inbetween weaving in the squillions of ends on Autumn Rose I have been having fun with my Crazy Daisy maker and this is what I've produced. I'm going to join them all together to make a scarf. I've just been using up leftover bits of yarn in my stash and managed to find some good matching colours.

Now I've got to crochet round them all to join them.

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Mum's Story

In 1997 my mother, then aged 81, had a series of minor strokes. Shortly after that we started to notice behavioural changes notably memory loss and confusion over everyday items. We thought it was just old age finally catching up with her. Then she started wandering and had violent mood swings. Although she already lived with us it became obvious that she couldn't be left alone for long and so I left my job to care for her. The next few years saw a gradual decline into the blackness that is 'vascular dementia'. My normally placid mum became violent and aggressive. She had psychotic incidents where she would see imaginary people (children hiding in her wardrobe, Russians sitting on the stairs, women stealing her clothes) and she would shout at them and sometimes throw things too. She was so convincing that we used to go and check that there wasn't anyone there! When my sister died mum did not know who Judy was or that she was her daughter. There came a point when I suddenly realised she no longer knew that I was her daughter and this was a terrible time for me. In the last 2 years that she lived with us, life for us all became almost unbearable as she needed 24 hour care - she couldn't be left alone at all because she would either wander off or hurt herself, she never slept for more than 30 minutes at a time during the night, she became incontinent and incapable of doing anything for herself. Finally my husband and I realised that we could no longer provide her with the care that she needed and she went to live in a special care home where the team did a splendid job caring for her in the last few months of her life. There she lived a zombified existence unaware of who she was, what she was or where she was. It was heartbreaking. She died in March 2005, the day after her 89th birthday.

Thank you for taking the time to read mum's story and I hope you'll dig deep and sponsor me using the link below to help find a way of beating this destructive disease.