The grass is always greener...

So just because it is now over for this year, and so not only me, but also those who are well but still uninitiated in the wonderful, miraculous "Mecca-ish" pilgrim event for all book lovers will also have missed out on it, I´m going to mention the Hay festival. Yes so there, now I´ve mentioned it. Just go there, I can´t describe how good it is. If I get a hang of this blog page thingy I might be able to put up a link to it or something.

Yes anyway, the grass is always greener on the other side. Although in Sweden we´ve had a heat wave for so long now that the grass might be greener a bit further away than that, try UK... Well, cuz for me, that´s where it always seem greener nowadays, that and that it seems to always manage to rain there. A year ago I lived in a little house called Ffos-y-bar, near a little gathering of houses called Pentrebach (a very common Welsh place name, bach meaning something along the lines of "little", but we still have a warrant out for what a pentre might be), a few miles of the A40 at Sennybridge, in the middle of the green hills of Wales rather close to the Brecon Beacons. Anyway, I read somewhere that just the area around Sennybridge was actually the wettest in all of Britain. Well all they would have had to do was just ask us bunch working dogs out staring in the mud 12 hours a day and we could have informed them that such was the case, and saved them all them fancy measurements.





See, its bloody green in the Brecon Beacons...

Again I seem to drift from the point. Even though the swedish lawns might have dried out, the world outside our garden seem like the promised land, where anything is possible, with a cherry on top. In the past month I have worn a pair of shoes twice, once when I had to go to see a doctor, and the other time a shrink, both times I was wheeled there in a wheelchair. A few months ago I would drive to the shops, maybe go to the local cinema, but now I can´t even remember the last time I walked further than our mailbox. My world move in smaller and smaller circles. Its not that I can´t walk further, I would probably make it around the block if I tried. Thing is that I have tried a bunch of times, and sometimes I seem to be ok even the day after. But ME is a sly bastard. It sort of collect the times I´ve gone out and done things and thought it was ok, and then, when I least expect it (cuz I haven´t done any more than usual the days before), I crash in to a month or so of almost not being able to move a spoon to my mouth. So I´m terrified to push my boundaries now. People I know with this illness have told me it took them at least 5 years before they got a hang of how they really were affected. And feck, I dunno how many more of those crashes I can take.

But on the bright side, since I hardly ever wear shoes I am all clear from fungal infections. Jealous?