Not figurative, but a genuine fence

When myself and Richard bought this house 4 years ago one of the big reasons was the proximity to the woods and fields. The fence is 150 feet from my front door.

Beyond the fence is a long bridle path that hugs the edge of the woods to the right and has crop fields on the opposite side, there’s also a pub at the end of the path.

Prior to the stroke, I would spend hours a week in the woods walking our dog and in the summer launching the ball on the crop fields. We sometimes walked to the pub too, if the path wasn’t muddy or it wasnt too dark.

Once home and beginning to walk I developed a bit of an obsession with the gate and what was beyond it. I think subconsciously my brain saw it as freedom and normality.

Very early on in my walking, still needing a pole as an aid one evening I decided I wanted a little walk, got my shoes on and walked. Rich was cooking when he realised I’d gone and it ended with an argument on the street, I had been naughty and had to apologise. I got a stern telling off by an occupational therapist for it too.

A few months on and I managed for the first time (still with the stick) to walk Marina just a little bit up the path.

It has become a challenge, I’ve tried to get to the woods a few times but been stopped by mud, rain, horses etc. I did walk it with my sister and her dog recently. Her dog had a leg injury so needed to walk slowly so was ideal for me shuffling along, my Marina hasn’t quite grasped that she needs to walk slowly with me as yet, she wants to be full speed all the time, one day girl I’ll get it