SHE

 

SHE 1135

She turned over and snuggled down in her warm bed and wondered if it was time to get up. Time for what ? She thought, I have no job. I retired years ago. What is my timetable today or any other day? It seems that my body is my only concern. My eyes are dimmer. Perhaps I have an opticians appointment. My tinnitus is -- is what? It is still there. It's always there. Perhaps I shall try to wear my hearing aids today. What would be the point? I don't want to watch the TV and if I did I would but on the sub titles. Why would I want to watch the news. It's all bad. Violence and war . Disasters and pollution. What can I do about it?

I remember a time when I tried. Tried so hard. To what? It was in the 80's when getting up early had a purpose. It was post my divorce and what had been the outside world and nothing to do with me suddenly became my world. It was as though I had awakened from a personal nightmare and was catapulted into a public catastrophe.

It all came flooding back. Memories tumbling over each other. The miners' strike, Greenham Common, nuclear weapons, Ban the Bomb, Nightmare in Paradise, CND, marches, protests, arrests, court cases.

So what did it all achieve, she thought. They closed the mines.The world still has the bomb and nuclear power. It's a fact that Kier Starmer is talking about a major boost for Sizewell C.

Thousands of UK jobs will be created as French energy firm EDF confirms today it will take a 12.5% stake in Sizewell C – in a major boost for UK growth and energy security.

The Strategic Defence Review sees plans for up to 12 new nuclear-powered submarines and 7,000 long-range missiles.

The Pacific Ocean is still and always will be polluted. Be warned, don't eat tuna. Did the imprisoned women who cut the fence at Greenham Common improve prison conditions? They certainly tried.

So what about the environment. Planting trees seems to be a good option. Not cutting them down in the first place would be even better especially in the Amazon. I have done my bit on that score. I did plant more than 200 trees in my garden in Brittany. I have never used pesticides and still don't. My off spring all receive gifts of tree plantings for birthday and xmas presents.

She turned over again, sat up and drew the curtains. Through the window she could see trees. Lots of trees. Tall trees. Mature trees. Such joy every morning. Often when it was windy it seemed as though the trees were waving to her. They signaled the seasons. Today in full leaf it's Summer. Soon the leaves will change and fall. She wondered if she would survive the next Winter when the trees would be bare and the house would be cold. She remembered when she lived in a cold upstairs flat and the only view through that window was of one tree and a brick wall.

So what did I do besides demonstrate and work. I read. I read, read read and read.

I painted, even had four paintings in the City Museum and Art Galley. I painted that damn brick wall. I also wrote and self published a semi-autobiographical novel and a book of short stories.

I played music too. Playing music with other people is one of the greatest joys in life. I remember the first time I played in the Biddulph clarinet choir. I played my fiddle in a folk band and we even got paid. I do wish I could still play.

Gardening. When I lived in France gardening possessed me. It was a field. A five thousand square metre field. I transformed it into a garden. Not just any old garden but a garden of rooms. An orchard with apple, pear, cherry and plum trees. I planted raspberry, blackcurrant and gooseberry bushes. I didn't need to plant black berries. They grew twenty feet high on one side of the garden and the yearly bumper crop was enjoyed not only by me but the birds and all my neighbours.

The wood of silver birch, oak, horse chestnut and ash was my pride and joy. The meditation garden took four years to create. I bought and planted 25 hornbeam.each year. So the total of the hundred were planted in a circle. In the middle I dug a pond which I surrounded with. irises.

The gravel garden was inspired by Beth Chatto. The flower garden had a lawn like a classic English garden.. There were rose covered arches through which one could walk from one room to another. A path which was bordered by tall interesting grasses which included very tall Pampas lead to a greenhouse. A greenhouse which did not contain plants but comfortable chairs and a table on which there were piles of books and gardening magazines. Usually my cat sat on my knew as I read.

So today. what can I do today? No cats to feed now. No grass to cut.

She slide out of bed and walked to the top of the stairs. Looking through the window at the tiny garden she saw that the fig tree had not only reached the roof but the five figs seemed to be ripe.

If only I could reach them. I know climbing a ladder would be to dangerous. Maybe if I open the window a little and stretch my arm out and----

So she tried. The window was one of those sash ones which you had to lift from the bottom and heave up. In earlier times it would then stay open due to some clever balance device. Unfortunately for some reason the device no longer worked and one had to find a way of preventing the window of closing. She tried. She opened it a crack and slid a piece of wood to hold it open just wide enough for her arm to reach a ripe fig. She gripped the fig. It was ripe alright. So ripe that her fingers squashed the damn thing to mush and it fell the twenty or so feet to the ground. Splat. The wood which had been holding the window open also fell. Fell heavily on her arm. Trapped. She was trapped. No need for her to wonder what time it was or what to do today for the window had broken her arm and she passed out. So she didn't hear the arrival of the ambulance which her neighbour had summoned and which took her to the hospital where she was pronounced dead on arrival.

If she could think she would have thought, 'Should have stayed in bed.'