I was all set to head out for a walk today. Really, I was. A roughly 2.5km wander along an old railway line. But I felt extremely groggy this morning and informed the Old Trout that she did not have to get up and chauffeur me anywhere.
Instead, I worked on my crocheting again and moved my chair every so often so that I wasn’t in the blazingly hot sun.
Here you can see how I’ve been crocheting the hexagons together. I join 4 together with single crochet. When I have 4 groups of 4 they then get crocheted together in the same way. That makes 16 flower motifs in total, which is the length of the blanket. Only another 32 to go!
Unfortunately at that point I had a seizure and fell off my chair.
The Old Trout did her bit to make me comfortable. I have more seizures when she’s around. But that’s because I get more tired because I can do more when she’s with me. I live alone and when I feel ill normally I stay at home and lounge about. Having a schizophrenic episode whilst out by yourself is horrendous. But when I’m with my mum, even when I feel a little ill, we can head out in the car. I can scream, or be anxious, or paranoid without worrying anyone. She’s there to calm me down so that the rest of the day can be a good one. And it was the case again today that having someone there made all the difference: because she was sitting beside me, acting reasonably nonchalantly, even though her daughter was thrashing about on the grass. I didn’t worry any fellow campers. They could see she was fine with the situation. And that made it easier for them too.
I’m glad I made the decision to not head out into the wild blue yonder today. But it did leave me wondering how I was going to fulfill my Juneathon requirement of actual exercise. I’m not like some of the Juneathoners out there who seem to think that running in this sweltering heat is a bit of a lark. In the end I resorted to walking around the campsite. Twice. Yes, everybody is now wondering if I was trying to size up their gaff. I probably have neighbours armed with newspapers to ward me off if I dare trip over their tow bars, or look sideways at their calor gas bottles again.
And then a fortuitous piece of luck blew my way. Actually, it blew away from me, but let’s not get stuck in pesky details.
There was a couple who arrived and tried to erect a large dome tent. I could see that they hadn’t a clue what they were doing. But I only stepped in when the wind whipped the thing out of their hands and into a nearby tree. I know a thing or two about erecting tents, having spent a misspent youth traipsing the Highlands of Scotland with a tent in tow. Once you’ve dealt with gale force winds on the Isle of Skye, a slight breeze in Dorset is nothing.
The tent was erected in a couple of shakes of a lamb’s tail. I’m not entirely certain they were thankful. But the Old Trout informs me that they were impressed by my tent erection skills. Oh, and that they were more amused by the whole escapade than anything else.
Day 28 – Daily step count reached, tent erected
Step Count – 5,479