Easter Monday

Good lunchtime peeps,

I will have a pie, please.

I am really upsetting Somerset by not updating.
They want to know all about it.

Hello Somerset. You are nosey but we love you.

On Easter Saturday I can't remember a thing. I have no idea what I was doing. It rained.
I woke at 4.30 with nightmares and distress, so I tidied my room and did some writing.

Then I took my washing to the launderette, there is a washing machine here but with the pouring rain, I couldn't dry anything here, and I only have one pair of trousers and they were wet from the sopping wet walk of witness.
Anyone want to donate? I am not telling you my trouser size so you will have to guess and we will improvise! :):):)

Anyway, Saturday continued wetly, just movies and writing. I have a computer article to do, and I am no computer buff, but it isn't too technical.

Yesterday I woke up feeling not too bad, I have been really depressed and traumatized and very worried, but I woke up OK, and sorted myself out and went to church.
Church was OK, not thrilling, we had Easter goodies with the tea and coffee, and they did me a food parcel.

I had the farm in the afternoon. The ducks behaved, it was the new hens who misbehaved. What a nightmare, they are hard work.
The paddock was very muddy as well.
The new hens are still isolated. The old hens were OK. I got four eggs.

Then it was more movies and writing, and then sleep, I was suffering really bad flashbacks last night, and then restless with dreams all night, and then I woke this morning to more rain, and went and did farm duties before breakfast.

Now I return to this computer article that has to be in this evening, and I am watching films as I write.
I have been busy with one of the new blogs which is beginning to take off, I do a load of scheduled posts as it isn't like this blog, it doesn't need daily updates, just a consistent input that can be done once a week with the posts scheduled.

I always have too much work to do relating to building my writing, and not enough gets done, so I ache, but the weather is ripping the gardening business to shreds and I am in despair and not making ends meet. It takes a year or so to start making a living as a writing, and I am not making my living there yet, trying to juggle it with gardening, and trying to just survive with the trauma and extreme poverty.
I am at my wits end. And the DWP left me over Easter with them having 'lost' my PIP forms and information and telling me they would stop my DLA and that was it. Can things get worse? Should I even ask that?