May 1st was our 30th wedding anniversary.  Less than a week laster he couldn't remember my name. 

It was a bad morning.  Confusion reigned.  And anxiety.  He was so anxious; about the horses (who's horses?  Who looks after them? Where are they) and the grocery store (why the grocery store?  Do we always go to the grocery store?).  And phantom appointments.  When is our appointment?  With whom?  Where is it?  When is it again?  But there was no appointment.  By the afternoon he was better.

It is a long goodbye.  Feel the sadness and tears welling up and firmly shove them back down again.  Not now.  Not now.  When all this is ended, I'm going to sit down and wail. 

Is it wise not to feel my feelings over a long period of time?  Not sure.  I feel them, I just don't indulge them.  Later, I say.  Later.

Even so there is much contentment too.  The horses, what a game changer they are.  Just that hour away, talking to no one (save the horses but I don't say much to them and they've yet to utter one word to me), watching the welcome swallows dart in and through the stalls, the hawks gliding over the paddock, the jutting finger of Mt. Warning, sometimes shrouded in cloud, sometimes grey and hard against the blue.

And of course, the weather.  Glorious weather.

And Richard too.  The caring part of me, that maternal bit that only found outlet in animals, blooms.  His eyes, huge and lost, overwhelm impatience with their innocence. 

Wrote to all the attendees of Art in the Shed cancelling it for the forseeable future.  Relief.  Has been on my mind; could I host the AITS and take care of Richard too?  On a good day, yes.  But the good days are fewer and fewer.  Already today we have had 2 accidents and it's only 2pm.  So I cut myself some slack and feel better for it.  Knew it was the right thing to do.

Reminded of the world of men the other day.  Walking with two friends (and Mikaela).  A car pulled up beside us.  The man inside, a local, disturbed because he comes up on us too quickly.  Admits he speeds but it would be better if we all walked on one side of the road (agreed) and walked on the other side of the road.  He saw my face and said, "you don't agree?"  No.  I was taught, horses and bikes with traffic, pedestrians against.  "But," he said, "growing up in WA we always walked on the left."  And with that statement he was satisfied.  He had made the pronouncement and we would do as he asked. 

Except.  I don't like being dictated to.  I dislike the sense of entitlement, I am the man.  You are a mere woman.  You do as you're told.  It is the (man's) law.  However NSW road rules for pedestrians are they walk on the right, into the traffic. 

My friends are filled with trepidation each time a fast car approaches, like guilty students trying to evade the hall monitor.  Like guilty women trying to evade the judgemental male.  But he wouldn't dare stop and ask why we aren't doing as we were told.   Would he?