Childish joy

Today was a wonderful day. We are enjoying some well earned time off work so today I was able to get my second sea dip of the week. My wee sea swim pal and I decided to be bold and try going to large rock pools we’d long been curious about. 

Being the gentleman that he is, hubby played taxi and chief advisor. We reached the spot and tried to see a way in that hopefully wouldn’t involve falls, trips or slips! Thankfully there was a well worn path most of the way. We slowly and carefully crossed the grass and rocks until we were beside the pool we’d chosen for our dip. 

I was a bit excited but also nervous. The pool looked very inviting, but getting in would involve manoeuvring down a couple of ledges and then dropping into deep water. It was very different to the slow wade in I’m used to from a beach. Add to that, the thought of not being able to touch the bottom and the prospect of trying to get back out, and my nerves started to kick in a bit more.  

The sight of the calm, clear water was too inviting to allow anxiety to remain however, and determination started to kick in. I could do this, I knew I could. My wonderfully fearless friend went in first as always! She talked through each stage, giving me hints and tips. Hubby stood slightly higher up and also provided insights into the easiest route. Both were wonderfully supportive but neither rushed me or instructed me. Just helpful suggestions and tips.

I got myself sitting on the first ledge, with my feet and lower legs in the water. After a few minutes I lowered myself down onto the next ledge. I sat there for another few minutes, getting used to the water temperature. As always with the North Atlantic, it was cold, and I was conscious I usually get a much slower immersion.  

I didn’t sit for too long before I became buoyed by my buddy…….. she was straight in and swimming across the pool, to the rocky wall at the other side. I slowly followed her lead and eased myself into the water. It was cold but we’ve dipped in far worse. The water was deeper than we’re used to, with no chance of touching the bottom, but there were plenty of rocky grip points along the sides of the pool. 

I relaxed and was taken back to childhood……. a memory of swimming in a pool just like this one, only smaller. It was at the bottom of someone’s garden. I don’t know whose. My mum had passed away a short time before, so I would’ve been about 5 years old, and someone had taken my sister and I to a house that had a deep rock pool, just like this one, at the bottom of the back garden. I don’t remember who took us there, or where it was, but I do remember that pool somewhere in Scotland. Somewhat bizarrely, I also remember a girl of about 18 or 19 years of age, playing a keyboard in the house.

As I crossed the rock pool this morning I felt peace wash over me with each movement I took through the water.  With relative ease, I swam to the other side of the rock pool. As I reached it, my epic sea sister was climbing out and preparing for a jump back into the deep pool. I watched her and admired her courage. I wasn’t tempted to try it though: I didn’t think I’d be able to get out of the pool, never mind have the nerve to jump back in!!

We swam back to the other side and she was out and getting dressed by the time I’d very ungraciously hauled myself onto the lower ledge. Bum shuffling like a baby learning to crawl, I managed to get out of the pool. As I giggled and indulged in some self praise at my ability to achieve my goal, another small group of women appeared. The three of them had clearly done this before……….. they headed straight to the far end of the pool and easily walked down a slope and slowly entered the water. We laughed at our ability to pick the hardest route in and out of the rock pool, whilst continuing to praise ourselves for our strength! 

Today was a good day. A year ago I wouldn’t have had the strength or the confidence to get myself in and out of that pool, never mind swim across it and back again. Today I did so, safe in the knowledge that I had the ability and had a Support Team on hand should any disasters strike. It wasn’t pretty, but I did it! And more importantly, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I left that deep pool, full of daydreams of childhood and a confidence in how far I’ve come since that life changing grand mal seizure four and a half years ago. Life is good.

Living with…..

Adult supervision required

Once again this evening I’ve been reminded of what a hash I can be, and how lucky I am to have the husband I have! 

Tonight’s challenge should’ve been simple....... cook a meal using a recipe from a fairly easy cookbook. Teriyaki chicken. A delicious combo involving chicken fillets, fresh veg and a simple sauce. As usual, I started off strong.......that’s code for ‘I jumped in without really reading the instructions’. Hubby asked if I needed any help and, like the professional chef that I’m definitely not, I began issuing instructions..... I ask him to chop the chicken and then gave him a load of veg to cut up while I spent roughly the same length of time making up a sauce that involved measuring out some liquids and stirring in some crushed garlic and crushed ginger. 

“What about the scallions?”, hubby asks. “Aye add them in too”, I reply after very quickly scanning the recipe. He does as he is bid before glancing at the book and asking me “Honey, where does it say to chop the chicken??” I look at it and watch as his finger points to the photo, which clearly shows whole, cooked chicken fillets coated in a sauce and placed on a bed of roasted vegetables. Doh! I drop an f-bomb and slap my forehead. Hubby doesn’t flinch and says it’ll be grand. Then points to the sliced scallions used to garnish the meal. Double doh!! Again he laughs and tells me not to worry. 

From then on I’m the sous chef and hubby is the boss. It’s better for everyone that way. He takes a sneaky selfie which clearly shows his veg all neatly chopped and ready for the oven, as I furiously stir my ridiculously simple sauce! Posting it on social media, he captions it “ Cooking together with Yacht Rock!! Sundays!”..... What a wonderful man I’ve married, who resisted a truer caption of “adult supervision required”!!

The huge irony in this is that in the last six months I have become the main contact for my dear old dad, who has spiralled into Parkinsonian dementia and is now in residential care. My sister and I are joint Power of Attorney and she visits as often as she can, but with her living in England and me living just up the road, I deal with the day to day business.  There are visits and post and paying bills and all the other things that go along with helping someone with dementia, alongside work and trying not to overdo things.

As always, hubby is my adult supervisor!! He helps in every way he can and makes sure I don’t get myself tangled into a stressy mess!! He makes sure I take a breath, he takes me down to meet a wonderful friend for our weekly sea dip....... not because I can’t drive or need his help, simply because he knows I like to know he’s nearby. Most importantly he dries my tears and gives me hugs when I get a bit overwhelmed by being the whipping boy when daddy is having a bad day. My sister and dad's partner also jump in and visit when they can, which is invaluable for us as well as for dad. I’m quite sure he was getting sick of only seeing me once a week, every week, as per the Covid rules. I’m so relieved they’ve relaxed enough now to let him see other people and even get out for the odd short adventure! 

My husband. WHAT A GUY!! My hero, the love of my life. Keeping me sane every day :)