Friendship008

It is only in the midst of minor crisises, that I stop to consider how much  our little community means to me, and more than that -how getting to know all of you is shaping who I am and who I aspire to be.   

I can’t be the only one to find daily inspiration, empathy and comfort, but it is only when I can’t talk to you on a daily basis, when life is too busy, or too miserable to speak of, that I understand just how much a part of my life you all are. How very, very much I appreciate knowing you. How far words from complete strangers or older, wiser women I have never met, can change the way I view a situation, inspire me to  get on with making life lovely, or force me out of my comfort zone when I feel like doing anything but…

To think that I didn’t know any of you eighteen month’s ago seems bizarre. To think that all this that I commit to screen on a daily basis now, was simply floating around my head then, seems incredible. The internet is a precious gift we all of us have come to take for granted.

Yesterday I screamed crying. Got hysterical and nearly had to be slapped back into reality. Sobbed into the endless cups of tea and then washed them down the sink and you know what? I think it helped. Today the pain in my right ear has all but gone, and there is only a dull ache in the left. I feel almost human again. Back to myself long enough to create a pan full of bubbling vanilla fudge. To drink strong, life-affirming Sunday roasted coffee, bake a Lancashire butter pie and finally get around to wiping the ring mark off the window ledge…

I was thinking about what the doctor told me and it struck me that this is the same doctor who told me that Finley’s scarily swollen Celiacs tummy was simply the result of lax childish muscle. The same man who still today tells me he doesn’t know the first thing about Celiacs. A man who may know nothing  about anything. I take his word on things time after time, and believe him when he makes three different diagnosis’s in a week and finally comes to the conclusion that I should join the ranks of the hard of hearing. Well not without a fight I won’t.

Today I feel as though I’m sitting underwater while everybody else is sunning themselves on the sand. Simple tasks like boiling a kettle have to be rethought because you have no idea how much you rely on what you hear as you go about your daily life. I shout because I’m convinced people can’t hear me and get kind of grumpy when they don’t shout back so I can make out what they are saying. If it wasn’t so serious it would be hilarious…

But I don’t feel like I did yesterday, and that is in part thank’s to all of you- to Nancy who told me not to accept this diagnosis.  To Joanne in Canada  who sent me a virtual cup of tea. To every single last one of you who took the trouble to email me, or comment here: I thank you all and wish we could all have a tea party- the kind of tea party we Vintage Housekeepers know how to throw in style…

Let’s raise a cup of chamomile to friendship. Virtual or otherwise.