Exhausted - oh, and the holiday . . .

 I make no exaggeration when I write that I was awake for pretty much all of the night, and am absolutely wrung out and exhausted today. I know going out for a walk would be a good thing, or some gentle gardening, but it's all I can do to stay upright.  I have managed to strip (and after a sleep) remake my bed and did some ironing earlier on (but only to warm up). I watched a really good video from Nicola White Tideline Art, where she shared her other passion, going to car boot sales and fleamarkets, and her find of a little book of watercolours dated around and just after WW1.   The paintings were of the Scilly Isles and Nicola visited them, and paired up with another mudlarking friend who was a resident artist down there.  SO much archaeology - I remember a lecture at Uni where we were shown slides of a drowned landscape (Lyonesse?!) and stone walls reminiscent of the Dartmoor Reeves marching into the water, and aerial shots of dark areas which were stone burial chambers.  Now, I really WOULD love a holiday there . . .

Ah yes, my holiday.  I still cannot get myself excited about it - I still view it with  trepidation and anxiety. Lack of sleep definitely doesn't help me.  Once I'm there, I will love it, but I cannot even bring myself to look up any of the archaeology or places we are visiting.  This is very unlike me, but grief works in strange ways.  I must try and motivate myself and get a suitable suitcase down from the attic.  I need to get insect repellent (I ordered it after writing that).  Avon Skinsosoft is brilliant, and I need to get some wet-wipes for hand cleaning whilst out.

Sarah - Deirdre le Faye's book about Jane Austen has just arrived.  I am reading the chapter on Southampton, since I know it so well.  A shame that the house they rented in Castle Square, with its beautiful garden, which sounded absolutely lovely was long gone even before So'ton was so heavily bombed in WWII. I imagine it must have been fairly close to the Tudor House Museum in Upper Bugle Street.  It's lovely to think of them picnicking in the ruins of Netley Abbey when her brother Edward Knight and his family and crossing the Solent by boat to visit Hythe.  All places I know well of course.

Right, this won't do.  I must stir my stumps, as mum used to say - an expression which has survived hundreds of years (recorded in Elizabethan times).

Update: had a short but brisk walk.  Then went and got my hair trimmed in town.  There's a small hairdressers who are often busy, but weren't when I went past, so I went in to book a trim and she did me there and then, pensioners' rate! At least it won't look like I have cut it myself if I find I can't use my tongs in Jordan.  Sure Gabby has an adaptor if needed though.