It hadn't rained atall on Mark and the horses, the fish tank didn't exist and the nurse wasn't that beautiful either.
But everything else, sadly, was real.
Our journey was over, for now at least...After feeling so great, after being so free!
My initial fears having been set to rest, things were going soo well. Never had I thought this would happen!
It was a tiny accident with a few unlucky factors that broke my leg! Shit Shit Shit.
The scene goes over and over in my head and I flinch and have to slap something.
Even as I'd sat waiting for the ambulance, I'd worked out how long until the wedding and how long a broken leg would take to heal.
I had already figured out that we could still get the horses to England and have our planned honeymoon return, but how to let go of our dream ride there?
For now, for me, pain, and the hope of it getting less takes over my future and its all that matters, in some ways that makes it easier for me, than for Mark.
Returning home was solemn, seeing all our wall lists bought tears, Mark tore them down.
Rayo, who I'd been wanting to see and touch all week hardly even cocked an ear when I went to the gate!
Jessy whined and howled as she does, telling us off for leaving, and she did uncharacteristically lick my face, but she too was already assured of her food and security without us.
So weird, all change, reset.
The next morning my spirits were lifted and life was taken over by the arrival of my daughter Poppy and sister Rachel, they cleaned, cooked, shopped, and cuddled me.
These few days were fraught with agonising pain, but we talked alot and laughed loads - Im so glad they came!
Days punctuated only with pill popping and visits to the loo, every other day a momentous outing to get my bandages re done, such an alter existence...I have to get on, so I fill all my time working out ideas, costs and possibilities for plan B.
Life on the trail was cheap, horses eating grass, us eating little, all living alot.
Life now, expensive, horses eating hay,
us eating alot more, alive but not really living.
Next trip to Cadiar for my bandaging brought me a new raison d'etre.
Hannah, my neighbour and chaffuer spotted a fledgling on the road outside the bar and the barman went for a dustpan and brush to clear it away..
I looked down at it, bald, ugly and awkwardly walking on all fours on the tarmac, its kind of embarrassing to do around here, and I never thought it possible to hand raise a new chick, but it looked strong, quite determined in its vigour and I'm so bored, all I can do is sit.
I hopped over, scooped it up and wrapped it with tissue paper.
I googled it, then tried it, soaked the cat biscuits, tapped its beak with the morsel on tweezers...It took a while but soon began to eat greedily!
In my inner search for fate's reason as to why I broke my leg, I muse the idea of my broken leg = a birds life.. Given the choice in advance I'd say F*** you birdy! But that aside, I like to believe that all lives on this planet are equal.
How apt that the bird will fly when I can walk..
Mark is supposed to be publishing before me, but he hasn't managed to put the words together yet..