One thing I’ve found recently is that I have no staying power. Last night, I went up to bed at half past eight and I’ll have to do the same tonight.  Of course, the downside of going to bed early is that I am awake by 4 or so and I don’t want to get up then.  And so the pattern continues.  I can stay up late once in a while or be busy without exhaustion several days in a row, but then it takes me longer to get over it.  I was fine all through the boat trip but it took me a week to recover.  I can only be patient and wait to get back to normal.

I had a form to fill in this morning, regarding a grant I get for taking care of environmentally sensitive land, and phoned to explain about Russell’s death and that I’d need to sign it.  We agreed that a copy of his death certificate would do to go with the papers.  Zerlina had scattered the papers a bit – I’d left them out to remind me to deal with it this week – and, though she is normally trustworthy, I thought she had lost some of them.  The papers were in three parts, I had page 1 of 2, page 1 of 1 and only four of the remaining seven pages.  I searched and agitated and panicked a bit until finally it dawned on me to turn the pages.  Yes, printed sensibly on both sides.  I’m clearly not entirely rational, it takes time for me to think of things.

I’ve been doing a lot of pondering recently and I seem to be working a few more things out.  Never too late to learn to understand myself, even if no one knew me better than myself already.  One thing I do realise is that I’m by no means ready to make major decisions yet.  Weeza was quite keen, for entirely the best reasons, that I should crack on and get the house ready to sell as soon as possible, but I’ve said to her (to her complete, kind understanding) that I realise I can’t.  That is, I want to get the house and outbuildings clear but then I need some time, though probably not long.  All the same, I know the danger of taking the easy route of staying here.  Easy for now, a huge burden in a few years’ time.  I’m pretty sure I’ll want to go next year, assuming I can find a buyer.  It’s a lovely place to live, it’s beguiling.  Five years ago, I thought I’d never want to leave, but we hadn’t taken on board the implications of getting old here.  In fact, Russell never did.  He fully intended to live out his days here, and so he did, though at least fifteen years short of what we had thought.  We always thought I’d die quite young and he’d die old, and neither of us would be left for long.  Just as well you don’t know, I suppose.

Nine o’clock.  How absurd, I’ve spent my whole life as a night bird, but I’m off to have a bath and go to bed.  Goodnight, dear friends.