So today was a hard day. It started with heavy rain, which perhaps annoyed Art because he'd ideated going fishing again. When the rain cleared in the afternoon, we took a walk down to the bridge (which we're trying to do everyday).
But then he insisted on going out this afternoon to try to finish the survey project that was what he'd been working on when he hurt his head in May. I happily went with him, figuring that it needed to be done. I'd try to make sure it went safely. Mostly tromping through the brush, climbing steep slopes strewn with ancient slash… that kind of thing.
We managed it. We measured between the waterline and the road, and we got the half way point flagged, so Richard can know where to put the new driveway through. I suppose during this "surveying project" I felt some apprehension, or anxiety – after all, this is where he'd fallen before. And the trail is pretty damn precarious, even for me, with my somewhat more agile body. Lots of slippery logs, holes through rotting material, broken branches sticking.
We get out of the trail up at the road, and I felt relieved. I said, as some offhand remark, "Well, now you've retraced your steps."
Just as offhandedly, Arthur said, "Oh, well, I already went down there myself the other day."
I felt suddenly sick to my stomach. And on the verge of tears, swallowed down because there would be no point in such an emotional outburst, would there? No doubt, he'd done his little walk during one of those times when I was unloading the trailer and he'd said he was going to take a walk on the road.
I guess, now, I feel really pissed off.
Why am I even bothering to try to keep track of him? He's going to do what he wants, anyway. I'm not going to monitor him 24/7.
And I've got these concerns, moving forward. He's made a commitment to tell me when he's going to do something risky. But his risk assessment ability is so clearly broken.
I know he's been contemplating taking the chainsaw and clearing brush in anticipation of Richard coming some day soon. I've said, several times, that I'll happily help him… but how can I prevent him from deciding to do it on his own? Or any other of the many dangerous things he might choose to undertake on his own… Do I need to hide or disable the chainsaw? I don't want to treat him like a child. An obstreperous child.
Some pictures follow – mostly of the path he'd cleared before the accident, that we measured along, today. They're in order from the road (top of hill) to water (bottom of hill). You can see the little pink flags he tied – most of those flags were tied already – he'd done them before his accident. Or who knows – maybe he stumbled around, bloody and brain damaged, and completed his project after his injury.
A lonesome blueberry.
[daily log: walking, 5km]
