In July 2009 I had the pleasure to be invited to Lac La Biche, Alberta to meet my lovely friend Faye Dupre.' We had been chatting on line for several months before, so this wasn't a rushed decision.
We spent 6 weeks that Summer at her house on the outskirts of LLB. During which time we visited the local pow-wow, which took place in the first week of August. I returned in the October -- our birthdays were in October -- and spent another 6 weeks with Faye. We had planned on spending a Christmas together the following year, but she died in the Winter of 2009, and I never got to give her the only thing she wanted.
There were plans for me to collect some of my things which had been left at our house, but I couldn't have made the flights, even if my ankle hadn't popped.
In Jan of 2010, while out on a short walk. My left ankle blew out and left me disabled, at this point I knew any chance of going had now gone.
With the blown ankle leaving me a virtual invalid, I felt my value -- which was little before -- in the household had hit a new low, and as such I decided to throw myself into moving our concrete posts through the Summer.
From June to late August, I was out in all weathers and times, digging up the posts. Many days I worked so late and hard, I fell asleep through exhaustion. The area I was digging out was behind the grave of my lovely dog, Bonnie. Many nights I had to come in and lie down, before I fell down. This became a double-edged sword, I know the harder and longer I worked, the sooner my tendon would snap. But, I knew if I didn't get the job done, it wouldn't get done.
Finally, in late September, the job was done and I could relax. I had earned my holiday in my my mind. Nobody in the house felt my value had decreased, other than me. That week, I made what was to be my final train journey on main line trains. I did make a few on local lines -- lower trains made it easier to get in and out -- and this meant getting out of the carriage put less pressure on my tendon.
In the last week of June 2011, I signed on with a local writing course. I never got to take the course, because less than a week later, in a torrential downpour my left tendon tore, leaving me bed-ridden until mid-September. With the building being a listed historically important one, they were not allowed to install lifts. With my leg in a cast, stairs were a no-go for me.