I feel as though my world has contracted and I only exist in a small portion of possibility. Its not really as if I feel this is ok or not this is just how it is. Strange. Is it wisdom or am I depressed?
My other brother, Pete, (still not heard from Rack since flooded caves in Cornwall) is disappearing into Parkinsons. So bloody sad. However much we didn't get on I did know him hale and hearty and now he is different and so obviously dying. He has immense mental determination, which while it won't do anything for his bodily functioning, will keep him going. He never complains apparently. Love for life is strong and in a way invincible. I cannot begin to imagine how it would be from the inside.
The houses are approaching, still only that one sold. Churned mud where the orchard was.
I want to post something life enhancing. I'll have a look.
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