This post is a little out of sync, so forgive me.
It was strange on Christmas Eve to be sleeping in a big bed in a house rather than a smaller bed and being rocked in the boat.
Hubby and I have both suffered from tinnitus, though his was a lot worse than mine and he’d had it longer.
Living in our last house, this was made worse by the constant noise of heavy traffic and aircraft going past or over our house. Even the dog got fed up with it, thus it was another reason we wanted to move.
Since living on the boat, we have enjoyed the peace, quiet and tranquility of the Marina (Laughing Duck, Rooster Duck and their chums permitting), and the tinnitus has actually diminished, if not gone altogether.
Or at least I thought mine had.
Our friend lives in a quiet country village, though not quite as quiet as the one we lived in as it has a pub, post office, shop, church and a hairdresser whereas ours had NOTHING (except the noise).
It was eerily quiet, yet lying in bed, I could hear something in my head.
It wasn’t the dog over the way barking into the night (neither in the house responded).
It wasn’t wind in the trees.
Nor was it the familiar male snores of Hubby (or our friend).
I could hear bells.
Gentle, tinkling bells.
I like to think perhaps it wasn’t my tinnitus.