Oh, I wish! Unfortunately, residents near pesticide-sprayed fields don’t even have a legal right to be informed of when spraying will occur, which would help them avoid exposure. The above article in the Guardian has generated much discussion about the topic, and I have made a couple of comments about my own situation.

Pesticides are highly-toxic, otherwise they would not be effective. Despite medical evidence of the effects in humans, people still claim that they are harmless. In addition to being toxic individually, untested mixtures of pesticides are sprayed into the natural environment. Then, these untested mixtures combine in the environment with whatever other combination neighbouring farmers spray, with devastating effects.

The regulations and guidelines on pesticides are inadequate to protect nearby residents. Georgina Downs has been running the UK Pesticides Campaign single-handedly for many years, fighting for the rights of residents living near crop fields. In 2008, Georgina Downs won her case in the High Court: it ruled that the Government’s policy was unlawful, because residents are considered ‘by-standers’, yet residents suffer repeated exposures, possibly over many years, rather than the one-off chance exposure a passer-by might experience. The Government appealed and the ruling Georgina Downs fought so hard for was over-ruled the following year, a devastating outcome for all those hoping to get the right to protection from these toxins.

Partly as a result of Georgina Downs’ campaign, the Government consulted in 2010 on how new EU legislation should be enacted in the UK. The outcome of DEFRA’s consultation was to ‘maintain the status quo’, thus the Government continues to contravene EU legislation, and residents near sprayed crop fields still have no right to know when spraying will occur, or what is sprayed. Georgina is now taking the case to the European courts. See the UK Pesticides Campaign website for more details.

Victoria Coren says it all much better than I could, so I will leave it to her:

Guardian article: Be prepared for an outrage

Like another poster on his blog, I was surprised to hear Jon Snow say something, on Sunday’s Channel 4 News, along the lines of the earthquake and tsunami have ‘changed the natural order of things’. Actually, earthquakes and tsunami are the natural order of things – they are nature in its rawest form.

It is ‘civilisation’ (through which we are increasingly removed from our natural roots) that has allowed humans to over-populate the earth, to such an extent that we have to take incredible risks with our lives and the future of the planet. For example, building nuclear power plants is bad enough, but it defies belief to build them in earthquake zones, just to feed our ever-increasing demand for energy – to heat bigger homes, and make and use (ie ‘play with’) more and more stuff, etc.

It reminds me of the billboard: “You are not IN traffic, you ARE traffic” – in other words, everyone in a car is partially responsible for the traffic and pollution they complain about. Likewise, we (ie all of us who are not completely self-sufficient, including ‘off-grid’) are all partially responsible for the huge demand for energy that necessitates diverse, polluting and extremely hazardous methods of generating electricity and otherwise harnessing the power of the earth. We can all have an impact in reducing that demand, thereby reducing the risks to ourselves in generating energy, which is especially important when there is so much pressure on this finite resource and greater need for sustainable methods of generating it.

While we can’t prevent earthquakes, we can all play a part (wherever we are around the world), in reducing their impacts by, for example, reducing global demand for energy (and the raw materials required) by using it more responsibly.

Edit: This post is an extended version of my comment on Jon Snow’s blog post “Japan: loss of life, devastation of homes, unimaginable grief“.

The Kiss, Auguste Rodin

At the time, of course, it seemed the perfect Valentine’s card, I loved it and it’s been on the wall ever since. Today, it just makes me think:

“Oh! what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive.”
Sir Walter Scott

The agonising irony is that Stuart wasn’t at all bothered about any physical aspect to our relationship after a while. In fact, he frequently actively rejected a touch, or a kiss, which was very hurtful. ‘The Kiss’ a very misleading card for him to have sent.

I really wish he had meant it.

The lack of communication, and the nature of the messages I have received from him, are all that’s needed to prove that we should remain apart. He doesn’t ‘do’ emotion, and wanted me to exist in an emotional vacuum, too. It was impossible for me to do that. On the rare occasions I had the courage to tell him I love him, it was met with a deathly silence – no response whatsoever, words or actions, which really worried me – how can he be so cold and callous?

Bearing in mind these obvious signs that we are incompatible, why am I so frequently overwhelmed by deep and intense emotion for him. I try to carry on with life as normal and it’s fine for a while; he’s often in my thoughts and I can handle that. Then, all of a sudden, one day (like today) I’ll be overcome by strong feelings for him and end up crying because I love him and miss him so much. Right now, I just want him back. I need him here, I want us to sort things out.

It is extremely frustrating to be denied the opportunity to discuss things with him – regardless of whether or not it would lead to reconcilliation. We need to talk about the problems we had. How else can we learn from this and move on? Oh, the FRUSTRATION! I have been going round in circles analysing everything over and over for six months and never coming to any conclusions because I cannot second guess his opinion – he made sure that I never understood him. He resolutely refused to express himself, all conversation with him was based on facts – or, quite often, his opinion presented as fact. We never had any meaningful discussion about our relationship, and I was expected to repress my emotions as he did his. Inevitably, this led to emotional outbursts from me, which he really couldn’t handle.

On top of this, the inequalities and injustices in our relationship (eg, his needs and wants would almost always ride roughshod over mine) made me really angry. I was constantly having to defend myself and fight my corner, having to justify my rights (to be respected, for my home to be respected, etc). It’s bad enough having to fight for your rights, but to have to fight for them in a relationship with someone who professes to care for you, and to have to use loads of energy trying to justify yourself to this person when you’re ill with CFS/ME (and have been for several years) is shocking, deeply unjust and very aggravating indeed. (It is hard to find appropriate words to describe this, it’s just so obviously WRONG.)

He often accused me of being violent and aggressive. I was not and am not violent or aggressive. However, I was angry and frustrated because my pleas for equality, fairness and respect in our relationship were easily forgotten in favour of his self-obsessed, single-minded focus on what he wanted, to the exclusion of everything else. He seemed to think that treating me well occasionally (a smattering of affection, a small gift here and there, dinner cooked for me – all of which I very much appreciated, demonstrably so) gave him the right to disregard and disrespect me the rest of the time.

We had a lot of fun together, and many happy times. I loved to join him on trips to Rochdale looking at archaeology, and help him with maps for the project to discover and record the archaeology and heritage in the area, helping him set up Salford Hundred Heritage Society. We enjoyed lots of the same things, and we had things we did independently, too (for me it was family history, for him it was robotics and his invention). I supported him in everything he did, because it was important to him; unfortunately, some of the things I most enjoyed were met with derision and ridicule from him. Obviously, this upset me very much, undermined my confidence a lot, and led me to (mistakenly) allow some dreams to fade in the distance. One day, I hope I’ll have the energy to recapture them.

Some of the problems we had could have been much diluted if we had not been together twenty-four hours a day in the same tiny house. He needs his own space (and a lot of it) for all his stuff, which (if he had that space) could be as messy as he liked. However, when two people are sharing a very small space, things have to be kept tidy, for the sanity of all concerned.

The concept of tidiness seemed to elude him where my house was concerned, yet when he could have been coming home from college for Easter holiday, he prevaricated because he was cleaning and tidying, doing his washing, sorting out his clothes!! That was really insulting – he wouldn’t clean and tidy here, but seemed to delight in delaying his return home so that he could clean and tidy his student room. The last straw was a week later, when he basically said that he couldn’t be bothered with the relationship because he will never be able to meet my standards of tidiness! That is SO not the point – the problem for me was the injustice and unfairness – he didn’t bother with keeping his stuff tidy in my house, but would go to great pains to do so in his room at college, at the expense of our time together (which was precious because it was severely limited once he went to university in Sunderland).

Oh, how it broke my heart to leave him in that godforsaken place. It was such a dump, the city centre was so grey and dull, extremely uninspiring. In September this year, there was a big leap, from being apart five months, to feeling like we’d been apart for a year because in September last year I had to leave him in Sunderland, where he was going to do a PGCE. On Friday 11th September 2009, we went to Rochdale, then on to Sunderland on Saturday 12th. Sunday 13th was awful. I’d told him when I planned to leave – I needed to be in Scunthorpe (ha ha, what a thrilling weekend it was) before dark because my eyes aren’t so good for night driving. However, he had other plans. Rather than say ‘please stay a bit longer’, or have a discussion about it, he dismissed my needs and made the executive decision for us to trail around university campuses, on a Sunday before the start of term, and he was surprised to find nobody around.

Then he wanted to find somewhere nice to eat – in Sunderland? Don’t make me laugh – the place is a ducking fump. Sunderland doesn’t do nice places to eat: it has a Gregg’s on every corner, and McDonald’s in between. Besides, my appetite really wasn’t up to much – I was about to leave him behind and not see him for weeks. All I wanted was to spend the time we had relaxing together. He didn’t bother to ask what I wanted, he decided what he wanted and was going to do that regardless. So, after a couple of hours of fruitless and very stressful driving around a strange city, we went to the corner shop to get stuff we could eat back at the flat (without anything to cook with or on, or eat off, because none of this was provided in the student accommodation). After eating, we both set off in the car, I dropped him off near town, we said our goodbyes and I continued on towards Scunthorpe.

It was another ten weeks or so before we saw each other again. In between, I tried to give him all the help and encouragement I could. It was really hard to stay positive because sometimes the only contact I had from him for several days was a cold and bleak ‘goodnight’ each evening. How is that supposed to maintain a relationship? Things were very difficult and stressful for him, I know that. He absolutely hated his first term there. I did everything I could to help, and it seemed reasonable to want to hear more from him than one word a day. I remember November being a really bad time, various misunderstandings, compounded by repeated communication failures. Christmas wasn’t great either, until the last two days of his time here. He was back here for a weekend in January and February, when things were great for both of us. I was really pleased he had decided to come home more often, and things were really looking (and feeling) brilliant. Then he came back for Easter, or that was the plan, but because he decided to behave like a petulant child, he didn’t turn up until Sunday (Easter Day) afternoon. Sadly, we only managed to spend half the holiday together before he packed all his stuff and left. We had one good day together, the rest of the time he was totally focussed on his wants, completely disregarded my needs (unless they happened to coincide with his own), and refused to acknowledge that this was a problem or that he should apologise for his mistake. He seemed to think that shoving pie in my face would suffice as recompense, and was surprised when that didn’t work! All I needed was him to say… SORRY, and mean it, and to learn from the situation.

In all my analysis and re-analysis of events, I have thought of all the different times I could have changed the course of events, instead of stubbornly waiting for him to realise what was needed. I wish I could turn the clock back and do things differently. The end of our relationship is not the outcome I wanted, and I would do anything to understand what I need to do to put things right. Still, after all that has gone on, I want him to come back. I love him. Although he doesn’t appear to deserve or want my love, so I don’t understand why my heart is still ruling my head. I have tried to move on, but it is impossible to completely shut away all my feelings – emotions being repressed rather than expressed is part of the problem, it cannot also be the solution.

As far as I can see, the main problem was lack of communication, so the solution is clearly to communicate openly and honestly so that we can better understand each other, and ourselves, then we can move on.

So, my diatribe comes to an end, at last! What is the point, I ask myself. Who am I saying this to? Contrary to my introductory paragraph, I want Stuart to read and understand this. However, I fear it will sink into the ether and probably never be read, much less understood, by anyone, let alone my heart’s desire. Or will it…?

Francis Pryor at St Peter's Church, Ely

Francis Pryor was funny, interesting, knowledgable, and extremely concerned about the ENVIRONMENTAL crisis. I’m shouting ‘environmental’, because current perception seems to be that the most urgent ‘crisis’ is economic, whereas it is quite obviously the environmental crisis which threatens our very existence and must be addressed above and before everything else. Yes, all of us, whatever our financial situation, are at the mercy of the environment, which we have plundered and polluted to (or perhaps beyond) its limits – NOW is the time to afford it the respect that it deserves, and that it must have, if we are to retain any hope of it continuing to support our existence.

He entertained and informed; he shared with the audience what he discovered through writing ‘The Making of the British Landscape‘, including the dangers of the short-termism which is apparently ingrained in British politics (probably any flavour of politics, for that matter). As far as British politics is concerned, five years (ie a term in Parliament) is long-term. In real life, he says, five years is short-term, 50 years is medium-term and 100 years is long-term. It is the short-termism of politicians that leads to many of the problems we experience in the world, including the environmental, social and economic issues that confront us now.

In response to a question, Francis Pryor talked about how well things work when people understand a range of disciplines, rather than being single-minded in their approach; for example, Thomas Telford, who was an architect, civil engineer, poet and stonemason, and designed over 30 bridges, including Menai Suspension Bridge, among many other achievements. It is this inter-connectedness of skills and knowledge that aids proper understanding of the way our world functions and how to work and live within its limitations, rather than constantly trying to push and push to, and beyond, the absolute limits.

As usual at a Topping event, I was so enthralled by the book and the author, that I bought the book and had it signed. I am very much look forward to reading it.

The Making of the British Landscape

If you are interested in buying a copy of the book, please go to your local independent bookseller. The Local Bookshops website can help you find your nearest independent bookshop, and book events in your area.

NB – While chatting to Robert Topping after the event, he assured us that the publisher promises a visit to Ely in 2011 by Audrey Niffenegger – author of The Time Traveler’s Wife and Her Fearful Symmetry! Now that is something I am really looking forward to.

Stu's silver pendant

Finding the pendant was quite a profound moment – I know it is very important to him and I have a feeling he may have made it himself, but we’d both assumed it was gone for good. When I’m looking for something (quite often, then!), I often uncover things I’ve been trying to find for ages. It’s great to find something unexpectedly, but I get very frustrated when I’ve lost something and can visualise it in many places, but cannot find it anywhere.

We had both looked under the bed for the pendant, but obviously not well enough as we didn’t find it (yet it was there, apparently). We thought it must have been left at a B&B, so I was amazed to discover it yesterday.

It was sweet of Stuart to want to cheer me up – apparently he has been concerned about me because I have been so upset since my Stu left. Unfortunately, I dislike mum’s Stuart, and I did explain that the offer of tea wouldn’t change that, and that I would rather he spent the money on his daughter. He insisted, though, so mum and I had a lovely lunch at Peacocks Tearoom. Peacocks is one of my favourite places – it was the UK’s best tea place in 2007, and is just perfect for so many reasons. They serve delicious food – scones, cakes, sandwiches, hot food – all freshly made, and drink – tea from every continent, coffee, alcohol – I would love to try a Champagne Afternoon Tea! The décor inside is lovely, nice oldish wooden chairs and tables, a lovely dresser full of a variety of patterned tea cups, and their homemade jam they have for sale. Even the loo is filled with interesting stuff! It’s truly gorgeous – sumptuous food, in an equally sumptuous environment.

After lunch, and a lovely cup of tea, we went to Topping & Company Booksellers, in Ely High Street. It’s my favourite bookshop, and browsing there for a while always leads me to buying an interesting book. It feels just like home, because the books are stacked up all over the place – on the floor, horizontally on the shelves, any where there is room! And, of course, upstairs you may be offered tea or coffee – so you have more than enough excuse to browse for a while – the travel books near the table and stools, or hide yourself away on the window seat, near the history shelves.

Before going upstairs, we booked tickets for ‘An Evening with Francis Pryor‘ at St Peter’s Church in Broad Street. I am really looking forward to the talk – I love landscape, and I’m interested in archaeology, and Topping’s events are always excellent and inspiring. I wish Topping had as many events in Ely as they do in Bath – some really interesting authors do a Bath event, but don’t come to Ely.

Upstairs, Mum and I had some coffee, and even Mum relented – she found a ‘must have’ book about Jack Butler Yeats, and I found one about a lady who moved her whole house ‘Miss Savidge Moves Her House‘, by Miss Savidge’s neice-in-law, Christine Adams.

Miss Savidge’s medieval house was ‘in the way’ of a new roundabout in Ware, Hertfordshire, so (despite the unique architecture – a small ‘hall house’) the council slapped a compulsory purchase order on it, so that they could demolish it. But May Savidge wasn’t having any of that: after trying to fight the CPO, she decided to dismantle the house, move it 100 miles to Wells next the Sea, and re-build it. Obviously, given the extraordinary historic nature of the house, the council should have paid for all the work to move the house, but somehow they evaded their moral responsibility, as the authorities still often do.

May was sixty years old when re-building started, and she spent the rest of her life (twenty two years) working on the house, while she lived in a caravan in the garden. She was a simply amazing and courageous woman to take on such a huge task. Upon May’s death, her nephew and neice-in-law inherited the house, and the job of finishing the re-build, which took a further nine years. Christine Adams now runs the house as a bed and breakfast, Ware Hall-House, and I look forward to being able to visit.

It is a little spooky, but a lovely feeling – comforting and reassuring – as if to give me faith that somehow everything will be alright. It makes me wonder: is Stu thinking about getting in touch? It might sound daft, but it really did feel as though he was near.

Perhaps the feeling was partly inspired by the book I am reading now: Her Fearful Symmetry, by Audrey Niffenegger (author of The Time Traveller’s Wife – her debut novel, which I hope to read soon). I am really enjoying HFS so far – it has some great characters, one of which is a ghost, and I just love the setting – in and around Highgate Cemetery – a brilliant, wild, overgrown and spooky place, which looks simply amazing and I would love to visit it one day.

“The ongoing erosion of their marriage was subtly cumulative, he felt, but turned on a series of failed moments which might perhaps have been different. For which he was to blame as much as her. There had been so many times when he might have reached out to Elizabeth and stroked her cheek, or caught her eye and touched her heart. But too often he would neither look at her, nor hear her silent calls; instead, he resisted her romantic gestures because he felt too foolish, in his condition, to be a lover.

Thomas knew that he had too often shut his own door on her.”