kmf's Journal

First heavy frost and I'm missing my nice UK central heating that would be timed to come on at least an hour before I got up. Here, I have to judge the day and work out whether it is sensible or not to go light the fire. If it isn't, I have to wrap up warm until the sun warms up the house. Brrrr!

This morning, when walking the boys five minutes up the unsealed road to their bus stop for school, we were all amazed by a beautiful rainbow hitting the mountains (which aren't so much mountains, but foot hills leading up to the Southern Alps). Jake told me to go home and get the camera while they went on to get the bus on their own:






Such a view makes me so very glad that I decided to come home.

I'm amazed at how much linen you can stuff into an airing closet. With another person coming to view the house on Friday, I decided that I really ought to sort out the airing closet (at least to the point where I didn't have to warn people about the perils of everything falling out on them.

I'm not expecting to take much of the bed linen/towels with me to NZ so I went through what I have ruthlessly and culled tatty towels (some in excess of 20 years old as I can remember getting them when I turned 21!), quilt covers out grown (Action Man, Winnie the Pooh and Thomas the Tank Engine), quilt covers too small (double when my current bed is king sized) and table cloths that are much too small for my current table. I can now see the back of the closet and have five rubbish bags full of linen ready to go to charity.

*giggles* What fun!

Its been an age since I've posted. Originally it was because of my mother only having limited dial-up in New Zealand and then because I've just been flat out back in the UK.

The holiday was great, just what I needed and, I think, what the kids needed too. The flights were less than great; kids throwing up both on all flights, inability to sleep and terrible service from Air New Zealand (never flying international with them again!). Once we got there, though, it was brilliant. I chilled for the first time since Ian died. I didn't have to worry about anything. It didn't matter how late I got up, nor how early I went to bed. I started sleeping nearly 12 hours each night which was pretty amazing since in the UK I average around half that.

We did lots of touristy stuff, but the lads also got to play around a lot on the farm and spent time with my brother and sister-in-law who they got on well with. Mark, my brother, let them drive his old farm vehicle around paddocks to help with feeding out and he only swore briefly when the middle lad accidentally hit the accelerator and caused Mark to fall off the back. The kids got to see new born calves, saw lambs being born, got chased by bulls and spent hours playing fetch with the farm dogs. They all cried buckets when we left to come home.

So....I've decided to sell up in the UK and head back to NZ. Over the last couple of weeks I've been busy sprucing up the place and getting the garden back under control. On Thursday I'm doing the paperwork to get the house on the market and while I'm very, very sad about leaving this lovely house with all its memories, I'm looking forward to a more relaxed lifestyle.

I think I'm doing the right thing.

It is my wedding anniversary today. Fourteen years ago today Ian and I married at a very grimy registry office in Brixton, then headed up to London and had a wonderful party in the penthouse suite of New Zealand House; such a wonderful view of Trafalgar Square and The Haymarket from there. I felt terrible when I only remembered on the train into work; how different this year is from last year. Funnily enough, I had put on my wedding and engagement ring last night (I've been doing without rings for 90% of the time recently) so I guess subconsciously I did remember the date.

After wearing my wedding constantly for over 13 years, I still feel a little odd going without it. I guess that part of it is that the status that goes with a wedding ring; I still feel uncomfortable about being 'single' at my age. However, its becoming easier as time goes on and I just need to remember to put the darn thing on when meeting up with my mother-in-law. (The last time we met up, I forgot to wear it and I spent the entire afternoon trying to hide my left hand without being obvious about it!).

Been away down in Cornwall for the last week. Every year we go away for the May holidays and rent a large house with three other families and this is the second time without Ian. All in all, we had a Good Time and it was not nearly as traumatic as last year. The only downside was the drive down and back - my Sat Nav predicted a five and a half hour drive, but in reality it took nearly nine hours down and eight hours back. Ick. Stupid road works.

In the week that I was away my garden has exploded into colour. When I walked up to the front door earlier on today all I could smell was the scent of roses - so nice! I need to spend a good day out there tidying things up, but the wild look isn't too bad (unless you look closely and see all the weeds amidst the flowers!)










Out back, the roses along the fence line are looking nice too. I really need to look at expanding the border to add more colour, but until I decide whether or not I'm remaining in the UK I don't really want to start on a new project in the garden. (And when I do, it will probably be to put in a nice large pond as I have been seriously inspired by some gardens down in Cornwall!)

I'm a little behind in writing about my fantastic weekend, not because I've been to busy but because I seem to have spent a lot of time over the last few days doing absolutely nothing. Which makes a change, but I do feel guilty over all the jobs that need sorting around the house.

Anyway, Saturday was great! My sister-in-law Christine arrived early to take the kids off to Hastings for the day, so I was able to make my train into London with plenty of time to spare (unlike the normal weekday panic walk to the station!). I had to rechart my way via the underground because of line closures, but that didn't add too much time to my journey and the trip only took 2ish hours.

I was given the most amazing scrap book made by Chihiro which celebrated Ian's participation on Puzzle Pirates and had lots of photos from previous Briterati meetups and anecdotes. (It can be seen at http://forums.puzzlepirates.com/community/mvnforum/viewthread?thread=64105 ) It was a bit of a shock to get it, I certainly wasn't expecting it, and I have to admit to bursting into tears when I opened it to the first page. But they were happy tears and hopefully I didn't embarrass myself too much!

Photos are here: http://pics.livejournal.com/_kmf_/gallery/00008pf5

A stack of beer was consumed, together with a plethora of other beverages. An interesting new game was conceived by Rubyspoon and tested by Silvertooth who has the most amazing control of impromptu chopsticks. Fun was had with Spadge's mobile phone and new discoveries about predictive texting were made. It was great to see so many pirates again and to meet new ones.


I got back home at around 7.30pm and felt wonderful having spent an entire day away from the lads and from the house. Timothy was very clingy; he doesn't like me not being with him and I guess he has a bit of insecurity because of Ian's death which is really not all the surprising. Christine was a star to look after them for the day. Wish I could do that more often :)

Oh, man. Wish he was real. This is what I think my Daemon should be like.

The anniversary of Ian's death is here, and I'm still fluctuating between 'OMG, it can't be true' and finding it difficult to even remember what it was like to live with a significant other. I had several stiff drinks last night because I thought I wouldn't sleep too well and I probably would have slept soundly, but Timothy had a nightmare at 1.30am. He got back to sleep with relative ease, but I was wide awake until 4.00amish, and then did that horrible dozing thing from them till 6.30am when I finally gave up and got up.

My plan for today was always going to be fluid. I couldn't even decide last night whether I would go to work or whether I would just slouch around home feeling sorry for myself. I ended up staying at home, mostly because Jake felt too upset to go to school.

The younger two went without fuss because they both had a new sports club to attend after school and didn't want to miss that. Timothy, it turns out, missed assembly because he was in tears but the school didn't ring me to tell me that (if they had, I would have just gone and got him).

Jake and I got some flowers and went to the crash site (or as near to as I could get) to place them. Its a horrible narrow road with no parking except a private driveway, so I couldn't stay there too long. We did time it so we were there for when the accident happened twelve months ago (although, at the time I didn't find out about it until five hours after it had happened).

We went home after that and flowers arrived from my mother in New Zealand and from Crystalclaws; both had me in floods of tears. Last night, one of Ian's Lib Dem friends came over with a huge bunch of white roses, so the house is full of colour tonight and I can't help but smile - I do adore flowers.

Once school was over the lads and I released a balloon in the local park (a purple heart) with some messages written to Ian on the side of it, and then we went out for a meal as a special treat.

Its been a day of reflection and remembrance for me. All through the day I have been recalling where I was and what I was doing twelve months ago. I remember my last conversation with Ian on the phone, I remember what I was doing when there was a knock on the door and the confusion I felt at seeing a policeman there. I remember the horrible task of sitting the boys down to tell them their Dad had died and the struggle of finding the right words. I remember feeling hyper aware of the two policemen in the room listening while I told the boys and feeling so helpless when Timothy cried and asked if he could have a new daddy. I remember the awful, awful task of ringing up Ian's mother and telling her over the phone what had happened; something, I think, that was harder to do than telling the boys because the phone is such an impersonal way to communicate. I remember feeling so alone after the boys went to bed, how silent the house was, and how I went into shock during the night once I had finished all the things I felt I had to do before I stopped and let myself think of what had happened.

I feel relief that I have made it though the last twelve months and am still relatively sane at the end of it. My melt-downs are few and far between; I don't have to dash off to the loos at work anymore to have a quick cry. I can look at Ian's photo on my desk and smile at him in the morning rather than feel like wailing.

I've heard from some widows that the second year is harder than the first. I hope that isn't true for me. I'm more of the opinion that the absolute worst has happened and I've done all the hard stuff now. I'm ready to move on with my life whilst treasuring my memories of spending wonderful years with an exceptional man.

Its getting closer and closer to the anniversary of Ian's death and its strange how I feel like I'm almost obsessing over the date. Every second thought is on it; even the weather is making me think of it.

I can remember so vividly what flowers were out in the garden when Ian died, how the pollen from the nearby trees had coated the car, even how long the darn lawn was as I hadn't had a chance to give it its first cut of the season. This year, the daffodils are already finished, the trees bordering our property are hinting green and I've already mown the lawn a good five times. Spring is so much earlier this year, the weather hotter and I long to be sitting with Ian on our patio sipping beer during the long warm afternoons.

Sometimes it feels like Ian died a lifetime ago and I struggle to imagine what he sounded like, what he felt like, his scent, his touch - its hard to remember. Sometimes it feels like it was only yesterday that I heard he had died and I get that God-awful punch in the stomach that makes it hard to catch your breath.

Having been past all the other anniversaries - his birthday, our wedding anniversary, Christmas, Valentines - I think now that the death anniversary is the worst one of all. I don't want to think about it or acknowledge it, but its there jumping up and down in my mind constantly.

Oh. Dear. Lord. This has to be the funniest thing I have seen all year - thank you oyjooles for posting it!

Makes me damn proud to be a New Zealander!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-l93gltkCc

Gardening this time of year is The Best Thing Ever. Spring is wonderful.

I feel sick. I've just gone and booked (and paid for) tickets to visit New Zealand later on this year. I shouldn't feel sick, afterall it's just a holiday. I'm not packing up and leaving the UK permanently. But I do feel horrible now that I have booked.

This isn't even the first step in relocating to NZ. I want the boys to see NZ and the farm and meet relatives they don't remember. I want to see if it is as good as I remember it. I guess I'm kind of worried that it may be even better.

Its easy to sit here in the UK and do nothing. But I feel like I'm just treading water. I've not done anything with my life since Ian died and I'm afraid that before I know it the kids will be moving out and I will still be sitting here following the same old routine and getting nowhere.

Midlife crisis anyone?

It snowed over night and we woke up to around an inch and a half of powder snow. The kids were delighted as the schools had warned that they may shut if it did snow. They were less impressed when their schools weren't on the list of those closed in Sussex. As usual the snow created chaos. I couldn't get the car out because we are on a hill and the road hadn't been gritted - I just wasn't willing to risk sliding down it. So we walked, which initially annoyed the lads but once they realised that other kids were also walking and throwing snowballs, they cheered up. (Especially when I got caught in some crossfire...my fault for walking too closely to teenage lasses when lads were on the other side of the road...).

Fingers crossed the council will grit the roads tonight as I nearly slid over a number of times walking down the hill (and on the flat).

Here is the view out the kitchen door this morning:




And because I've finally uploaded it off the camera, here is my first ever (and most likely last ever!) quilt! While I enjoyed making it, I'm not convinced I did a good job.




It makes a nice cover for my legs when I'm watching TV late at night and the heating has gone off - *grins* Oh my, I sound like a granny! But I do like snuggling into it.

I've obviously become soft as I'm having trouble dealing with this cold snap. I absolutely froze yesterday, both in and out of the office. This morning it was colder and the kids all grumbled on the walk down to the station. The youngest lad was crying by the time we got there - he doesn't seem to cope well with the cold. I had to bribe him to walk on with his brother to school (note to self: remember to pick up something before collecting him otherwise he will howl on the walk home).

*sighs and wishes it was Spring*

I took my wedding ring off last night for the first time since I got married back in 1993. It felt odd to have it off, but it didn't feel wrong. I only removed it for a few minutes and didn't even put it down, just held it and looked at it and remembered when Ian put it on my finger. Its back on now. I think I will continue to wear it even though I'm not really married anymore. I toyed with the idea of getting a gold chain to put it on and maybe I will in the future, but not just yet.

Some days I just want to scream and scream and scream until my throat explodes. I hate those days.

The quick one-shot I've been working on during my train trips in and out of work has taken on a life of its own and is now demanding Chapters and Plot. Why is it that this only happens when there are other projects I want to work on?

I was driving Jake to his school this morning, something that doesn't usually happen even on my days off; I normally chuck him out with the others at Tesco's car park and make him walk the rest of the way. Just out of the town centre we got stuck in some traffic. I was behind a large petrol tanker so couldn't see what was delaying up, but I could see a few cars in front of the tanker were doing U turns in the very narrow street and that no traffic was coming the other way. An accident, I thought.

I told Jake to get out. We were within 5 min walk of the school and I didn't know how long we would be stuck, nor exactly where the accident was. He grumbled, but left and I waited another couple of minutes before doing a U turn myself. Then I could see the accident. Ten or so cars and a petrol tanker up the road there was a pedestrian crossing and someone had been hit. After I did the U-turn, I drove back into the town centre hoping that Jake was ok (he would have to cross the road there as other kids were doing). Then all the emergency vehicles started coming up the road and I had to pull over to the side to let them through on my lane. First the police car. Then the ambulance. Then another ambulance. All with their sirens going, all with flashing lights.

I couldn't stop crying as I drove the last five minutes home. I keep wondering if that was what it was like when Ian was killed. People stopped in traffic, unsure what had happened. Cars doing U turns to try and get around the obstruction.

I hate the sound of sirens. I hate police uniforms. I hate that seeing a speeding police car can make me feel so sick to my stomach.

I'm also worried about Jake. He didn't take his phone today so I can't call him to make sure he is ok. I'm sure he is and if he isn't I know the school will be in contact with me. I'm at home today so I can get him straight away.