My Rock told me some time ago, I can't remember if it was before or after we found out about the sleepers/squatters, about a green burial site near him close to Alford. I'd said I don't want any religious ceremony at all and had looked at humanist celebrants when I made my will 3 years before. I'd made an appointment to go to see the site but, having been to Woodlands where Bec is now, knew I'd be disappointed. The site is only 9 years old, a section of an estate where the owner wanted to have a green site. Sadly it is only a burial site. Don't get me wrong, as resting places go, or somewhere to visit a loved one it's very peaceful, with a lovely country road encased by greenery as the approach, only a few miles from the sea. But if it's raining or winter it's going to be a pretty miserable place to be, standing in a field? I can't make my family and friends do that I don't think. I want it to be somewhere fairly close, for convenience sake, but I'd really like it to be somewhere that does everything like Woodlands. Rural Lincolnshire won't have the facilities of a city area like Bristol, I know, but I am looking around at alternatives.
I've spoken to Becky about it, she knows the sort of thing I'm looking for, I just don't see the point in leaving all that trauma of finding somewhere to someone else? I know what I want, I have the capacity and means to make that happen whilst saving people I care about, who may inherit the task of arranging it, a whole lot of trouble. I've spent days, if not weeks looking into this non denominational, green burial stuff and still don't have a venue, and I'm not grieving for a family member. I don't think it's morbid, it's liberating and responsible of those who can face it. It's not as if by planning things now I'm holding the back of my hand to my fevered brow, head tilted back at a slight angle, wailing "woe is me, I am not long for this earth" is it? I had to write my will when I was facing major surgery - there was a chance of complications during or after the four hour marathon that was pruning and rearranging my insides. I had younger children, one of whom lived with me. Now, how kindly they rub my face in my singledom (only joking loves, or am I?), the three named executors in my will have all married and moved since then. How rude! So, whilst I'm about changing those details I might as well add some specifics to the rather general will I made 2 working days before hospital admission.
I've also spoken to Hayley who had another suggestion I'd not even thought of, and wouldn't have if we'd not talked about it. I told Lady D there will be NO HYMNS, she insists, if present SHE will be singing - that's fine, so long as there are no vicars and hymns she can bring a guitar along and have a little sing song round a campfire with pink bubbles and toasted marshmallows afterwards if that's what she wants. Still - NO HYMNS. Hmm, actually that sounds pretty cool!
This week I've spoken to my district nurse, Beating Bowel Cancer nurse and colorectal nurse at the hospital again and gone over my scans a bit more. My decision (today) is to go ahead with Evil Irene (or as I've read nurses call it I run to the can) and see if I can't hold off the hair loss and effects of chemo with nutrition. I have a £20 ebay wig now just in case and I bought a hat (subconsciously I managed to buy one similar to the one Bec is wearing on her order of service). My plan being, I start wearing a hat now, noone is going to think much if I wear one in a few weeks. Earliest I'll be starting, based on what I know from chemo suite timetables, will be middle of October. Which means I should in fact keep my hair for my birthday. Result. So, I feel an expensive, pampering restyle coming on in to enjoy for the next month or two, maybe more.
Weekend Reading, 2.18.18
1 day ago