Yesterday two students visited me for a short dye day in inidgo. They wanted a peek into katazome dyeing and so I showed them how to prepare the paste, apply it through stencils and dye. It all takes some while and we had only a few hours so we concentrated on two projects. From my stash one of them got inspired to try some itajime shibori as well. Luckily it was warm and sunny and the paste dried in a jiffy.
Mother went from bad to worse and back to bad again. But she is stable now and she still has her iron constitution. Nursing her at home was no longer an option and we got lucky and found a place in a very nearby nursing home some 3 weeks ago now. It's only at the end of the street about half a mile away so I can go and visit her at any time. Her memory of the last 30 years is almost completely gone and I'm sure if I wouldn't visit her so often, she would forget me as she forgets my brothers. (She remembers there were other kids but she doesn't remember anything about them.) But they were able to mobilize her a bit again, so she can have some meals in the common rooms, meet other people and take part in some activities like singing or even crafting. If she has to or wants to stay in bed the whole day, she is much better cared for than I could. They have the resources and the people to help with changing her position, getting her out of bed (without heaving her 80 kg all alone from bed to commode) and doing all the little things. The nursing bed alone is incredible technology.
It was a hard decision and I'm still not absolutely content with it. But the care she gets in the nursing home is way better.
It was shocking to see her going from ok and celebrating her 90th one day to being pain riddled and not being able to move or be moved to loosing her mind, her personality and everything that made her her in just two weeks. We got the pain under control. And since she doesn't even remember all her surgeries any more she doesn't have any pain either. The mind is a wonderful and a scary thing. And it's scary to see it going. Not scary for my mother. She knows somehow that she lost memories but it doesn't really bother her. I am scared. I'm scared of the prospect that this can happen to anyone anytime.
And I'm thinking a lot.
And since you can work and think at the same time, I began working on some long neglected projects. Like our garden. Germany is a country with a high density population, so neighbours are those people who live only a few metres away from you. And some don't like it when leaves and twigs grow over the fence onto their property. Most ignore it or cut them just away but some are more rigid and meticulous and no excuses.
But I had to accept that there were too many too rambling plants in my garden. And since every careful and controlled weeding would not lead to any success, I accepted the necessity of a more tabula rasa approach.
And now my poor garden looks like this:
I'm going to save our offended neighbour from being forced to look at our (insert expletives here) garden any longer by adding a little, very much law conforming, privacy fence on our common border. After errecting the provacy fence, the wasteland will be rebuild with some native shrubs and a new elder tree (the old one had to be killed thanks to the neighbour) and I found a little wild plum (Zibarte, a very old native subspecies of Prunus domestica) which will find a new place as far away from any border as possible. I will need to regrow some kind of larger tree as a substitute for the Sawara cypress which I might will have to cut down sometime in the future. Hopefully, it won't come to this since it is populated with many birds and insects but I want to make sure that there is a substitute ready should it come to it.
And I still have a small cornelian cherry (Cornus mas, another very old native shrub species) in a container which will be able to root her feet into real ground now. The wasteland will regrow.