I turned my head away at the mention of a scooter once I was back on my wobbly feet. But the offer of a shopping trip to an outlet mall, when my world was the village, was too good to refuse. So we booked in advance and a kindly man met us at the car and introduced me to my wheels; snail is good for inside, move the knob to hare to get yourself out of a snare...
Inside and on the move my tightly pursed lips gradually broke open as a smile eased its way out. Chris and Val walked as I scooted from shop to shop. Big stores were best as I had yet to master tight manoeuvres. In the home store the girls were studying towels when I, unknowingly, hooked myself up on a metal container of tea towels and happily dragged it behind me until a squeal from a shop keeper made me press stop!! A visit to the loo caused another te-do! I proudly tucked our shopping bags between my knees to save the girls energy. I had the bug. I had freedom. Of sorts.
I discovered that some bird reserves loan out scooters on a first come first served basis and the world of birdwatching reopened its arms. I happily swung my binoculars over my shoulder as we collected my pre booked wheels from Cley Marsh Reserve then Titchwell Marsh in north Norfolk. I zipped from bird hide to bird hide where I parked my ride outside and hobbled in to spot some birds with Mr H.
The Malvern show had been an annual event for Mr H and I but I had dismissed a visit because of the walking involved until I discovered Event Mobility who attend some events with a trailer load of scooters which can be borrowed for a fee. So we went and I came away with my arms full of flowers. But I advise anyone thinking of doing this to go early to mooch as once the shows get busy all you see is bums and bags.
I now volunteer at a social club for adults with disabilities and have been humbled by the acceptance of wheels as an aid to independence, rather than my first interpretation... My failure to walk.
One of the first questions I am asked in a new social setting is what do you do?
Initially following my brain tumour I avoided eye contact as I answered this dreaded question:
I used to be a nurse, still am really...; but I had to take ill health retirement; ...the brain tumour...fatigue....poor walking.... sort of thing....
...my voice became softer and quieter; still no eye contact.
Now four years on, with my smiling eyes fixed on the interrogator I say:
I am busy living...
In the end, it's not the years in your life that count.
Its the life in your years
Abraham Lincoln..
Their golden smile spreads along roadside verges and paths, they glow in untended gardens, they spring forth in clusters when the warm sun brings them out of hibernation. Unchallenged stalks stay close to the ground but the powerful green stems can push the flowers up to dance above long grass.
This spring I need to collect some Buttercups. I scan fields and hedgerows in anticipation of spotting an otherwise unnoticed bloom.
Today the disabled parking space at Ham Wall RSPB bird reserve awaits my friend and I, but birds are forgotten when I see Buttercups on paths as we arrive. I stoop with my plastic bag and scissors and inspect this miracle which I picked as a child to hold under a friends chin, a yellow shadow confirmed a love of butter!.
Each of the five wax polished petals shine readily when turned towards the sun. The open petals display the myriad of tiny curved stamens as hairs shimmer from the stem.
As I pick, damselflies flitter around with invisible wings, they settle on leaves until another disturbs their sunbathing and their blue stick body floats away. I drop my buttercup bag and walking stick and click and click until I am sure I have an in focus picture of these wonders of nature that I have discovered through buttercup hunting.
I shout and point when a warden alerts us to a Bittern in flight, Marsh harriers and a Hobby. But my hesitant steps on uneven green paths have delivered the winning treasures.
I invite you to step outside, find and stare closely at these golden beauties before they drop their petals and hide for another year.
The Malvern show had been an annual event for Mr H and I but I had dismissed a visit because of the walking involved until I discovered Event Mobility who attend some events with a trailer load of scooters which can be borrowed for a fee. So we went and I came away with my arms full of flowers. But I advise anyone thinking of doing this to go early to mooch as once the shows get busy all you see is bums and bags.
