Will help be there?

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The photo above (by bingo caller, jobbing gardener and drag artist Tim Redfern) was taken at the end of August just after the Country Show in Icklesham – hence the paint spray on my bonce – and much has happened since then to make me fear the coming winter.

As I write (last Sunday) the heavens have opened and thunder is rippling across the Weald and the marshes, but back in August I was looking through my gardening books and planning next year – while gold-painted seed heads and other autumnal items (on the left of the photo above) waited to be incorporated into my indoors winter garden of plants – some of which stay indoors all year, while others which just winter inside.

Little then did I know that the Queen was going to die, and we would have a new prime minister – swiftly followed by another. But I did know (as I read history for my first degree) that Covid would be back (and it is increasing in recent weeks), and I would (as a lifelong asthmatic) need both the flu and Covid jabs – and have duly got them.

I need to be careful anyway because I had major surgery (for bowel cancer) in March, spent a month in the Conquest, and was clapped out when I left as (the surgeon told me in June) I had nearly died. And the baggy T-shirt in the photo above disguises a bulging stomach with lots of scars and strange bumps. So, as I’m 80 in December, I need to look after myself, and I’m beginning to wonder how I will manage this winter – and whether I can.

Surviving Covid

But we survived two years of Covid by coming together as a community in 2020 when I was then Rye News‘ editor, by volunteering to help neighbours, and by changing our ways of doing things – like more doorstep deliveries including food (which, in my case, included vintage cider from the Waterworks).

Homegrown produce has nearly all vanished from my garden now, though the tomatoes are being saved for winter sauces.

My home grown food has virtually ended now (though I get the odd handful of raspberries) and my green tomatoes are ripening in bowls with the help of some ripe, red apples which works, though don’t ask me why!

So getting food in could be a problem as I can’t do on-line, particularly if it involves money and very accurate and careful typing, as I am dyspraxic which means that my brain and fingers and feet do not always work well together – dating from when I was a premature baby in wartime London in 1942.

Mistakes come naturally

And I cannot drive either. Lots of lessons in County Durham. Few cars. A lot of sheep. Failed twice for repetitive stalling of car. “Failed to make progress,” said the tester. But I have got by with the help of Rye’s community bus when I could walk, which I can’t now (or only briefly to get to Boots) as my feet are all swollen (I actually typed “stolen” and that’s dyspraxia at work).

But rewind some weeks back to when the Queen died. I could walk then, planned to shop, and popped into my GP surgery in Ferry Road for a jab (prostrate cancer this time). Shortly after, and much to my surprise, I (plus shopping trolley) was in a noisy ambulance barging through traffic to the Conquest as an “Emergency”.

I was discharged three days later after being treated for a mix of severe asthma, blood pressure problems, and an erratic heartbeat. More than a month later I am still on seven different pills and four different inhalers at various times of the day but my blood pressure is down! And turning the TV off helps.

A bumblebee making the most of a late sunflower – and I still have some late flowers – mainly in hanging baskets

But I am used to being self sufficient, organised and busy (like the bee shown above in my garden), and I can currently only squeeze into flip flops to walk – and (rumour has it) Christmas is on its way, along with my 80th.

An earlier article in Rye News sets out some of my past busy history, but this article is full of question marks (and, possibly, typing errors and other mistakes) about the immediate future – for me, you, your family, and us all.

After my experiences so far this year, I have no idea what the winter, or even next month, or indeed tomorrow, will bring. But I suspect I may need help and I am an “awful asker”.

But Rye did come together – along with surrounding villages – during Covid’s first two years and I hope Rye Town Council can again bring together the many volunteers (and voluntary organisations) which helped us before – because I think there will be many needing all sorts of different kinds of help in Rye – and surrounding villages.

I keep the heat in, and cold out, by only pulling my curtains back from one window. But this view helps keep me warm, and cheers me up – and a few of the pots have even moved indoors for winter !

Image Credits: Tim Redfern .

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2 COMMENTS

  1. My real concern this winter would be about those who live in “unofficial” housing like holiday parks…. and we have a few around here.
    I bought a “mobile home” down at Rye Harbour when I first moved to Rye while my new home was being built in Valley Park, and holiday parks do not only house holidaymakers or owners who want a “second home”.
    Thankfully I was able to move into my new home a few days before Christmas as by then I often woke to feel ice on the wall above my head (and bed) in my temporary “home” when I woke up.
    I wonder how those park “residents” will cope now as winter comes as I am not at all sure how they fit into government safety blankets, and I hope they can find help from Rye Food Bank’s resident adviser on such issues where people (including families) seem to have been overlooked.

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