Waffle & Whinge

A New Arrival

2011-06-13T23:38:00.003+01:00

The trouble with leaving it so long between entries is that so much has happened and it’s difficult to know where to start. Serves me right really, I should write more often. It’s not as though I haven’t had the time since I’ve been off work (again) for the last two months. The reason for that is because I tripped over a paving slab and broke my collar bone. Eight weeks down the line and the hospital tells me the bone isn’t healing and so I need an operation to fix it. So it looks like I’ll be off for a further eight weeks or more waiting for and recovering from the operation. It could be worse, I suppose, it could be Winter. As luck would have it the weather (until recently) has been pretty good.

But the real story isn’t about me breaking my collar bone it’s about how I managed it. You see, back in April we (finally) acquired a new member to our family. A two year old labrador who goes by the name of Honey. It was whilst I was walking Honey that I managed to trip over the paving slab. As I tripped, I shuffled forward trying to keep my feet but I knew I wasn’t going to make it. As I stumbled, the dog jumped and ran across my path. Now, we’d only had the poor girl for four days and it really didn’t seem right to kill her so soon in the relationship. So, thinking quickly, (or maybe things really do slow down at such times. It certainly seemed like it.) I figured the best thing to do would be to dive over the top of her, tuck my head in and roll onto my back.

Hah! Twenty years ago, maybe I’d have managed it. Not now though. I tucked my head in and saved myself from landing on my face but it seems my rolling days are over and I landed on my shoulder with a heavy thud that made me feel sick, just hearing it. I knew I’d done something pretty bad but the first thing I thought of was to grab the dog’s leash in case she ran into the road. It was difficult to stand up without using my right arm and holding the lead with the other but then the dog came over and started licking my face and all I could do was laugh. I finally managed to get us both home and Reet took me to the hospital where I discovered the extent of the damage.

But enough about me, it’s time to introduce the star of the show. Without further ado then, please give a warm welcome and a rousing cheer to Honey. Two years old and cute as you like. You can see why I didn’t like to kill her so soon in our relationship.

We’d been talking for ages about getting a dog but we never seemed to get around to taking the plunge. But I’d mentioned this to a girl I work with and, amazingly, it turned out that her sister had recently been divorced and needed to work longer hours to pay the bills. She didn’t think it would be fair to leave Honey alone for long periods every day so, after much thought and indecision, she made the heartbreaking decision to let her go.

Well, since Reet has been out of a job for the last five years and doesn’t look like returning to work any time soon, and since I’ve been going on about getting a dog for some time, this seemed like the perfect opportunity. So we adopted Honey. And here we are, two months down the line, with a broken shoulder, a cupboard full of dog food, a squillion chew toys and a maroon carpet that’s very quickly becoming ‘Labrador yellow’ and we’re loving every minute of it. Even though I’m off work I’m knackered through constant dog walking and belly rubbing and Reet reckons I’ve already become the dog’s personal slave.

Seriously though, I didn’t realise how much she would change my life but it seems that everything we do revolves around Honey. We recently arranged a weekend visit to my sister’s house and I had to call back to make sure it’s okay to bring the dog – otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to go. Oh, and we think we’ve finally discovered a source of perpetual motion – Honey’s tail! But it isn’t just a tail-wag, it’s a whole body effort and if you were to manage to grab the tail and hold it still I swear her head would wag instead. She greets me every morning and whenever I come in. She follows me around all day expecting treats or some play and if she doesn’t get enough attention she slopes off to her bed and flops down in it with a sigh. Then, every time someone moves her head flops over the edge of the basket, her sad puppy dog eyes pleading for attention. Of course, I fall for these feminine wiles every time, fool that I am. But what can I tell you? She’s been with us just about two months now and already I can’t imagine life without her.

So that’s the main event in our lives since last I wrote. I’m sure there must be other newsworthy events and they’ll no doubt come back to me soon enough. In the meantime I’d best get back downstairs, I’ve got belly-rubbing duties to perform before I’m allowed to sleep.

Oh, and just before I go, I thought I’d include a photo of yours truly with my Christmas hat on.

That’s for Rach. The face fuzz is an extra treat. ;o)

Cheerie – bye. B. x

Devon. Sept 2010.

2010-12-01T19:40:00.006Z

Well, where does the time go? Last time I wrote I was looking forward to my holidays and now, so it seems, in the blink of an eye, the holiday is long over and Christmas is banging on the door. Before we know it 2011 will be upon us and doesn’t that look like a promising prospect! The government is doing its best to tear the country apart, as usual. The royals are trying to convince us that their upcoming family wedding is going to be a boon to us all and not a poor excuse to add another sponging parasite to their ranks, and the doom preachers will be advising us to repent our sins before 2012 brings the world to a crashing, burning end. I can’t wait, can you?

But let’s not dwell. I had intended to regale you with all the latest goings on in my mediocre existence but that would make this too long an entry. So I’ll start by telling you about our holiday, way back in September. And since I’m off work for the week I might spoil you with a more newsy entry in a day or so. (Ain’t you lucky?)

So anyway, about that holiday…

...We stayed in a cottage in the wilds of Devon. A lovely little place on a farm alongside the River Taymar. Most mornings were spent with me passing the time either reading, walking or taking pictures while I waited for Reet and her sister to surface. We usually left the place around midday, by which time it was time for their medication so we had to find somewhere to eat as they have to take their pills with food. Honestly, they time their pill taking to the minute – every four hours, on the dot, and they have to eat each time. So you can imagine the amount of cream teas and scones they put away while we were there! I too have to take pills at regular intervals but, to be honest, I don’t take too much notice of times and food. I usually forget all about them until I start hurting and then I figure I’d best take a couple more painkillers.

So we’d get moving around 1pm most days, which wouldn’t have been so bad but Pat didn’t much like driving around the narrow country lanes in the dark, so that meant we had to be back at the cottage by 7pm every night. I did offer to drive as she’d put me on her insurance for the holiday and I quite enjoy driving those dark country lanes, but alas, it wasn’t to be.

That’s the cottage. Most mornings saw the river shrouded in mist that rolled along the waters surface and slowly dissipated as the sun burned through. As you can see, we were in a pretty remote setting. It took me the best part of half an hour to walk to the entrance to the farmland in which we were situated. Had I wanted to go to town it would have meant another half hours walk, at least. Being so remote though, had its good points. The nights were extremely dark and when the sky was clear we had some magnificent views of the stars. And it was so, so quiet! Reet couldn’t figure out why the bees sounded so loud until I explained that they were no louder than any other bees, it’s just that there were no other sounds to block them out. Surprisingly, we didn’t see too much wildlife, unless you count the Dartmoor ponies and the cattle and sheep. We did however spot some regal looking buzzards prowling the skies - on one particular occasion we saw seven of them. They looked magnificent but, unfortunately, they were a little camera shy and preferred to stay high, soaring above treetop level.

We did get out and about on occasion though and we had some good days. We actually managed to visit Widecombe in the Moor on the day they had their annual fayre. A fun day all round despite the persistent rain that accompanied us throughout. And we also enjoyed a boat trip along the River Dart with its picture postcard scenery.

We went into the little seaside town of Dawlish to meet Reet and Pat’s brother and sister in law. Dawlish is a pretty little town and we spent a pleasant afternoon dining and catching up with family news.

I had planned to meet Jayne (Home alone) whilst we were away but once we’d arrived at the cottage we discovered we had no mobile phone coverage and no internet.To add to the confusion, it turned out I didn’t have Jayne’s current mobile number so even when we drove to a town with a signal I still couldn’t reach her. I solved the problem by texting a friend and asking her to email Jayne for me. It was touch and go for a while but eventually we made contact and arranged a meeting in the pretty town of Polperro.

As pretty as it is though, Polperro is not built for people with dodgy knees and since three out of the four of us were hobbling around on sticks it was probably not the best venue we could have chosen. We had a good day though and it was lovely to finally meet Jayne after all these years of chatting and blogging together online. We managed to ditch the others for an hour or so and have some quality chat time and a very sweet hot chocolate and marsh mellows to ourselves. We could have talked long into the evening I’m sure but like I said, Reet’s sister didn’t like to drive through the narrow country lanes in the dark, and so before we knew it, we were back in the car park and saying our goodbyes.

When we first visited the nearby town of Tavistock we were puzzled to see that some of the more grand buildings were ‘decorated’ with bicycles. It was very strange to see these brightly painted bike frames hanging off the walls of the police station and town hall as well as in some of the surrounding trees. We were even more confused when, on our next visit, there was no sign of the bikes at all and we thought for a minute that we had imagined them all. All became clear though, when we asked a local shopkeeper about them. It turns out that the annual tour of Britain cycle race was going on that week and at some point they were to come through the town of Tavistock. The decorative bikes were simply a little celebration of that fact.

We went to the Eden Project which was something Pat had always wanted to do. Reet and I had seen it before when it first opened up and it was amazing to see just how much it had changed and grown. It’s a long and tiring day though and, personally, there’s only so much vegetation I can look at before it all starts to look the same, so I found myself ready to leave much sooner than the girls, who managed to spend the best part of an hour, and a small fortune, in the gift shop alone! I scooted round the same shop in ten minutes then went to put my feet up while I waited for them.

It was a good day though. In fact, the whole holiday was enjoyable. The highlights for me were meeting Jayne and a trip along the beautiful River Dart. There weren’t any lowlights to speak of although I have to say that the sat-nav that I borrowed from work was next to useless. It seemed as though every time we approached a junction where we may or may not have to turn, the damn thing lost its signal. In the end I resorted to the old fashioned but much trusted method of reading the map.

It’s so very easy to have a good time in Devon. The countryside and the slower pace of living are something to be savoured while you’re there and I think I managed to do that. It’s such a shame that we have to come crashing back to reality as soon as we arrive back home.

Okay, this is fast becoming something of a marathon entry so I’d best be off.

Cheerie-bye. x

A musical interlude

2010-09-07T00:00:00.001+01:00

I got an email the other day from a friend on facebook. Now, most of you will know I’m not good with facebook and avoid it like a politician avoids the truth. But I clicked over there to take a look and discovered I’d been tagged in a little game that asks you to name fifteen albums that will always stick with you. Well, I do like my music so I’m kind of interested in the game but I have a little trouble with the idea of naming fifteen albums. Don’t get me wrong, I can name plenty of albums that I like and enjoy but there are only a small handful that will stay with me.

I grew up in the sixties and seventies. My mum and dad had a huge record collection from their own past and even my nan, who lived with us, had a few of her favourites. I was the youngest of five so as I grew up I listened, not only to my parents music, but also the music my older siblings enjoyed. These were days of radio more than TV and I can remember listening to Family Favourites, Childrens Favourites and Sing Something Simple. (It wasn’t all music though, we had the Clitheroe Kid and Just a Minute and the Goons too.) But I’ll stick to the music side of things for now. My sister, Penny, was a big fan of Cliff Richard and still travels around to see him even now. Brother Tony was a huge Beatles fan, but then, we all liked them. Derry and John had their own tastes too and as I grew into my teens, I too found my own bands to rave over. There were a lot of teen magazines doing the rounds back then – Fabulous is the only one I can recall at present but I know there were a lot more because they all had posters of bands in them and we cut them all out religiously and pinned them to the walls. We four boys shared a room and the walls were pretty much completely covered. Penny slept in the downstairs bedroom with a life size picture of Cliff pinned to the ceiling directly above her.

Come the seventies and I was earning a wage. This meant I could spend all my hard earned cash in the record shop. I’d get paid, spend it all and then go borrow off my mum for the rest of the week.

I bought myself an afghan coat, tie dyed my jeans, put on my headband and listened to T. Rex, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath and David Bowie. When money would allow I went to a few concerts but not as many as I’d have liked. That came later when I’d married and had become a little more responsible with the cash. Evenings were spent listnening to late night radio and finding new music to enjoy. I would listen to a show that played new releases and if I heard anything I liked I’d go to the record shop and order it next day. To this day, when I hear a song I like, I stop what I’m doing and take note of the title and the singer so that I can buy it later.

So that was pretty much the basis of my musical upbringing. Once I’d married Reet and we got our own place I bought a quality hi-fi system (which was still in use up until last year. The speakers are still excellent and have found a new home with brother John. The cd player and the tape deck have all but burned themselves out but the amp and record deck are tucked away in the attic, just in case I decide to dust off my old singles one day). Once we were settled financially and I found I could buy records when I wanted I set out to buy all those songs I enjoyed as I was growing up. I’d always had this vision that I could go to my record collection and pick out anything I’d heard, past or present. So along with the seventies stuff I was paying top dollar for I was also looking in the cheapo shops for old stuff.

When cd burning became possible on my computer and with download sites such as Napster I was in my element. I was amazed at how much old stuff was out there and even some of the songs I considered to be obscure were readily available thanks to a sharing public. Despite being on dial up in those days my mp3 collection grew and grew. I would come home from work, set up the pc to download a selection of songs and then go for my nap. By the time I came back the downloads were either completed or cancelled half way through because the sender had gone offline. Even so, I reckon I downloaded ten songs a day sometimes.

As well as the mp3s, I have more than three hundred singles, two hundred albums and nearly three hundred cds. I also have an I-pod now and have loaded a huge lump of that collection onto it. I’m still totally amazed that I could probably fit my complete record collection onto a gizmo that fits into my shirt pocket! My I-pod has thirty GB of space and I’ve filled nearly twenty four of those with music from my collection so my vision is almost fulfilled. What I’d like to be able to do now is to turn the I-pod into a jukebox kind of affair so that each and every song on board can be selected from a list. I know you can scroll through them all on the I-pod itself but this is fiddly and takes time when there are so many thousands of songs on there. But if I could transfer the list to a screen on the wall and simply tap in the song number like we did with the old pub jukeboxes, well that would be perfect. (I’ve recently discovered that this technology is available but it’s a little expensive at the moment.)

With all this background you have to understand that my musical preferences can date back to the war years, thanks to my mum and dad, and on through the years to around 1983 when I pretty much lost interest in the music of the day. During the eighties and nineties I started looking for new stuff that wasn’t pop. I found some unusual people, like Klaus Nomi, They Might Be Giants, and The Violent Femmes to name but three. If I like an artist I tend to buy several of their albums and will play them for a time until the fad wears off. Then, years later, I’ll hear a track from one of those albums and I’ll remember how much I liked them and start playing them all over again.

For me, music is all about mood. One day I might have Meatloaf screaming passionately through the speakers and the next might be a mellow day with Sade or Roberta Flack. On an inebriated evening alone I might turn to Tom Waits for some down and dirty blues.

On Christmas day we don’t put the TV on in our house, we play music. I have a selection of carols, including Jethro Tull playing God rest ye merry gentlemen and Ted Nugent playing Deck the halls, so it isn’t all Neil Reid and the Nancy Boys School Choir. I even have a copy of Tom Waits singing Silent Night if you can imagine that! I try to keep the music family orientated at Christmas though as Reet and Pat don’t necessarily like my own particular choice. (I have The Happy Wanderer in Czekoslovakian and three different versions of Big Rock Candy Mountain, as well as a selection of yodelling songs!) Not that they stay awake for much of it, and I find that once they’re asleep I can get away with some cajun music or some good ol’ tear jerkin’ country. But, by and large, give me a singer with gravel in his voice and a dagger through the heart and I’ll be happy. Failing that, some good old rock and roll will always go down nicely.

During the course of writing this little piece I’ve tried several times to create a list – fifteen songs, fifteen albums, fifteen artists… I even considered fifteen artists that I always return to sooner or later, but it’s impossible. As hard as it is to find fifteen albums that will stay with me forever, so it’s just as difficult to name fifteen artists from so many. So, no lists then, but hopefully I’ve managed to give you a little glimpse into my musical heritage. I don’t know about you but it’s left me with a yen to dig out those old 78s. (Oh come on, don’t pretend you’ve never heard of them!)

Cheerie – bye. x

A fond farewell

2010-08-31T23:31:00.007+01:00

I’d like to tell you about a good friend of mine who died recently. I worked with Les for many years before he was forced to take early retirement due to alzheimer’s. He was just fifty –ish years old at the time and only fifty six when he died. It was a shock to everybody who knew him to see his mind deteriorate so quickly. Before this debilitating disease took hold Les was one of the liveliest people I knew. He was a happy go lucky man who loved his wife Shelly and their two daughters, Lindsey and Katie, openly and unconditionally.

In the time that I knew him we played squash together, we spent weekends in our respective caravans together and we worked together. We drank together too and on one inebriated occasion he introduced me to jellied eels, a snack that, when sober, I wouldn’t feed to a starving cat. With a few beers under the belt though I was easily swayed and he had me tucking into them like a regular cockney whenever we went out drinking. Our games of squash could be more correctly described as a game of ‘hit the ball and pick it up’, but we played in an attempt to get fit so the quality of the match wasn’t important, just the exercise.

Les loved life and everything about it. I don’t recall ever hearing him complain about anything or anyone. Likewise, I never heard a bad word said against him. He was a sensitive soul too who would suffer himself rather than hurt someone’s feelings. Les was one of those people who lit up a room. When you were with him you smiled. He did that to you. And he was obviously well loved and respected by many because the chapel at the crematorium was full to bursting and there were as many people outside as there were inside. There were many anecdotes told at his funeral but there’s one that I’d like to share that, I think, sums up just how thoughtful Les was and what a close, loving family he shared:

When Les got up for work he would get himself ready and then he would put toothpaste on the brushes of Shelley and the girls, leaving them ready for when they too got up. Unfortunately though, being a postman, Les was up very early in the morning and by the time the rest of the family woke up the toothpaste on their brushes was very hard and very dry. So much so that it had to be thrown away. But here’s the lovely part to the story – everyone thought this was such a thoughtful thing to do that nobody had the heart to tell him and so the ceremony went on right up until his illness stopped him from doing it.

Les was a modest man and would be embarrassed to hear all the accolades that have come his way these past few weeks but that doesn't make them any less deserved. He was a gentle man and a gentleman and I’m honoured to have known him. Although it’s sad to say goodbye it’s a comfort to know that Les is no longer struggling and suffering. And I know that wherever he is now, that place is a brighter, happier place for his arrival.

Goodbye Les, I’ll miss you.

Night all. x

Odds & Sods.

2010-08-06T22:52:00.000+01:00

It’s been an eventful week or three since last I wrote, starting with the visit to my sister’s house for a family do a couple of Saturdays ago. It was a great time, as usual, with plenty of good food and good company. We swapped news, gossiped and generally had a lot of fun. Then, later in the day, four guitars appeared and ex-brother in law, Gerry, led us all in a sing song. The weather behaved itself for most of the day too so that was the icing on the cake.

Sunday morning, for no apparent reason, my back gave out. I’d had a little niggling pain there for a week or two previously and I usually take that as a warning to be careful. But then, after spending a relaxing day in the garden at my sister’s, the darn thing still gave up the ghost. So much for being careful. I did discover something though. When I visited the doctor he pointed out that this kind of thing is likely to happen when you have arthritis. Now that was the first time I’d ever been told I had arthritis in my back. And I’m sure I would have asked on previous occasions. So why is it that doctors like to keep all this stuff to themselves? Personally, I think it’s just to make them feel powerful. Most of them are full of their own self importance at the best of times. But don’t get me started on doctors!

Not only did my back give out, but my router packed up too, so I spent a week and a half off work and unable to surf the internet. A scary prospect but, as it happened, it turned out okay because my lack of internet access inspired me to go through some of my old files and I managed to add a few pages to a story I had begun some fifteen years ago. It was a spasmodic affair though as I was unable to stay in one position for any length of time. But by the middle of the second week my story had grown somewhat and my back had improved a great deal so I went back to work last Friday.

I mentioned before about having my picture taken with a few colleagues for an article in some company periodical that gets sent to the managers. Well, when I got back to work the boss asked me to do a write up for the article to go along with the photo. Of course, that was right up my street and I said I’d do it. The boss then told me he needed it by Tuesday! Cripes, talk about under pressure. Still, it was only a paragraph or two and I managed to cobble something together. I showed it to the boss on Monday, who added a line or two of his own (just to get his name mentioned) and then I prettied it all up at home in the evening and emailed it to him for the Tuesday. It all looked okay in the end but I made sure to save it as a Word document in case they need to edit for space in the mag. It will be interesting to see the finished result. Here’s the pic:

Last Sunday started off with a few of us going for a breakfast at a nearby café. We do this quite often and it’s a nice start to the day. Being postmen we’re all early risers so we’re usually there around seven in the morning. This Sunday though, was different. There was a football match planned for a little later in the day. The footie match was arranged by our former boss who plays for a Sunday league team. They needed some practice and our guys managed to drum up a team to give them a friendly challenge. The two teams met last year but it all turned a bit nasty with a few of our lads getting sent off and a couple of threats against the ref. So much for a friendly.

This time though, it all went much more smoothly. The ref was a little older and more experienced and he ran the game really well, I thought. The icing on the cake – we won 6.1. Not bad for a bunch of knackered postmen. Well, okay, they weren’t all postmen and we did have a few youngsters to call on for the occasion, but still, to beat a team that plays all through the season is no small feat, when you consider that our bunch only meet up for this one event each year.

This week a customer surprised me by giving me a thank you card. She called in a few weeks ago and was worried that some keys that had been posted to her would be lost in the post. The main problem was that she was due to go away in two days time and she wanted to be sure she had her keys before she went, otherwise, she decided, she would have to have the locks changed before she went. She was obviously very distraught and more than a little annoyed at her daughter for posting the keys in the first place. Especially since she only lived five minutes drive away.

Well, to cut a long story short, I managed to retrieve her keys from the box they’d been posted in. I went to her house to return them but she wasn’t there. So I called her mobile. “Hello,” I said, “This is Barry, from the sorting office. You’ll be pleased to know I’ve got your keys back. I’m outside your house now so I can either rob the place or post the keys through your letter box, which would you prefer?” She was so relieved I think she was almost in tears. I posted the keys and thought no more about it. Until last Monday when she came in with this card. I thanked her and told her it was quite unnecessary but she wasn’t having any of it. She said, thanks to me she was able to go away on holiday and was able to relax completely, something she’d never have been able to do had I not found her keys. But how nice was that? It can be a thankless task, serving the public and we meet our fair share of rude people along the way. So when we get a customer like this lady it helps somehow to restore the balance, if only a little.

I’m finally getting my tiredness problem looked at. I went to the hospital yesterday to pick up a machine that monitors my sleep pattern. It’s a small thing really, about the size of a TV remote control, but it was strapped to my chest. From this gadget there were two other electronic gizmos, one strapped to my chest, the other round my waist. Then there was another cable that went to my finger, presumably to measure my pulse etc. And finally, there was another piece that went into my nose to measure the snoring. All these straps and cables had to be taped so they didn’t become dislodged during the course of the night. By the time we were finished strapping it all on I must have looked like a suicide bomber and I had my doubts that I’d be able to sleep at all. I needn’t have worried though, no sooner had I started reading my book and my eyelids started drooping. All things considered, I had quite a comfortable nights sleep. It remains to be seen what the machine made of it all and I won’t find out about those results until early next month. I’m hoping they’ll prescribe brandy as a nightcap, I think it would be quite nice to get it on prescription.

Well, this was something of a scrappy entry tonight, but at least I’m actually writing something. I think I’m slowly getting back to my old self, writing a lot more, both here and in my other outlets. I’ve been tempted to take a creative writing course which is run by Reet’s English teacher, but it’s forty quid for five sessions and I’d be away on my holidays for the first two so I don’t think I’d be getting my moneys worth. Still, maybe next year if the class is still going.

Okay, I’ve wittered on enough for this entry. It’s time to cook dinner anyhow so I’ll have to upload this later tonight.

Cheerie – bye. x

A little waffle, a little whinge...

2010-07-16T18:29:00.002+01:00

Where does the time go? More than halfway through the year already and it seems Christmas has only just gone by. Before we know it Summer will be over, the nights will descend on us at 4pm and we’ll be ordering the turkey and Christmas pud once more! But let’s not dwell. Far better to make the most of this current spell of warm weather. It’s been with us for nearly two weeks now, almost like a proper summer. My only concern with this is that it almost certainly won’t last until September when we have our holidays.

Hey, we have a celebrity in the family. My nephew recently appeared on The sky at night with Patrick Moore. I had hoped to include a link to the BBC I-player but that particular episode of the program is no longer available. Still, here’s a still of the famous Dr Chris North taken from the said program (Chris is the one in the middle):

They were discussing ‘Herschel’, a new infra-red astro-telescope that’s sending back some amazing photographs. Fascinating if you’re into that stuff. Personally, I was just pleased to see that someone in the family finally got some smarts. I’ll ask for his autograph when next we meet. If anybody wants one, I’ll be selling them for a tenner. Okay, okay, as I know you, a fiver, but that’s my final offer.

Tomorrow (Saturday) we’re off to my sister’s for a family bash. It was supposed to be at my brother, Derry’s house but his son has had a pretty nasty accident whilst white water rafting in South America. It was a scary few days as he injured his spine and there were fears that he might be paralysed. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case and he’s on the mend now. There’s a long way to go, however, and the recovery period will be long and painful so it was decided that a change of venue was in order. I’ve booked a day off work and some extra sunshine for the occasion so it should be a good day.

On the work front, I had my picture taken today. Well, not just me, several of us. Apparently, we scored a hundred percent success rate on delivery of some items of tracked mail and this, it would seem, is cause for celebration. Rumour has it that the photo will appear in a future issue of the company journal. That’s all very well but I’ve never understood the idea of targets in a company such as Royal Mail. Their target for delivering first class mail on time, for instance, varies. It can be anywhere from 93 to 97 percent, depending on the time of year. But I don’t get it, I mean, surely the target should be 100 percent all the time. If you reach a set target of 95 percent that isn’t a reason to celebrate it’s a reason to ask questions as to why the other 5 percent didn’t get delivered on time. And when you consider the huge volumes of mail we handle every day, 5 percent is a whole lot of late letters and packages.

Still, never mind, if this government has its way we’ll be sold off pretty soon. They’re already claiming we’re losing money once more. You just watch, they’ll hammer the company into the ground and sell it off cheap to some big company with even less interest in providing a service than the government has been. And who’ll take a bet with me that whichever company wins the deal and buys up Royal Mail at a snip will be one of those who made a significant ‘donation’ to political funds somewhere along the way? Whatever happens, you can bet your boots that the government will take its lump and the buyer will get the deal of the decade while the service gets steadily worse. That’s how it worked when they sold off British Gas, British Telecomms and British Rail. And we all know how much their service has improved since the sell off don’t we?

Personally, after thirty plus years I’ve finally given up on the job. I’m merely biding my time for the best opportunity to take my leave. It’s sad to watch a company change so much for the worse over the years but it seems the idea of providing a service is quite old fashioned these days. And it’s hard to have any sympathy for a firm that worries about what colour trainers or shorts I’m wearing when they’d be better advised to check out why all our customers are deserting us for other courier services. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the postmen and women can only deliver the mail if the work is there. It’s up to these big money earning executives to bring in the work. We’re just the monkeys who cart it all around the streets for peanuts.

(Ooh, all that just because the boss wanted to take my picture!)

Okay, sorry for the rant, I’m alright now. A change of tack then…

When I get up for work of a morning I always find a note from Reet. General stuff like: set the alarm for 9 o’clock, don’t forget to get paper, water in fridge, you haven’t done any lunch for work…

Reet insists I never read them, although this doesn’t stop her from writing the damn things. But I do read them, sort of. It’s just, well, sometimes there’s a whole page of the stuff and it’s 5.30 in the morning and it’s still dark out and I’m getting ready for work…

So I give it a cursory glance, set the alarm and ignore the rest. And the system works despite her doubts about my reading ability, it works.

But she also leaves herself a list as well. The latest one read:

Wash hair – going to chiropodist today.

I read it once, blinked, then read it again. Finally I couldn’t leave without altering it to:

Wash feet – going to chiropodist today.

The daft thing was, she didn’t even notice - so even she doesn’t read the notes she leaves!

But why does she need a list for everything? That’s my question. I mean, I know she’s getting a bit older and a little more senile but for Gawd’s sake, does she really need reminding to do the ironing? There’s a bloody great pile of it sitting on the sofa in the living room, the ironing board is set up with the iron perched upright on the end like a little begging dog. How could she possibly miss it?

And I do understand the need for lists, I really do. But here we are, six weeks away from going on holiday and already it’s, “Have you made a list yet? You’ve only got a few weeks.”

I’m learning though. I will make a list these days, whereas, in the past, I’ve made the fatal mistake of insisting I didn’t need one, only to discover, usually when it’s too late, that I’ve forgotten my passport or something equally as important. So yes, I do make a list for some things. So far though my holiday list is still formulating but in my head I’ve made a start:

Brandy

Camera

Hat(s)

And on that note I’ll take my leave. Have a good weekend all.

Toodle – Pip. x

Holidays.

2010-06-12T00:19:00.000+01:00

We’ve finally gone and booked a holiday. Two weeks in a cottage in Yelverton, Devon. It looks pretty good too, being fairly secluded and remote and with the River Taymar running close by. All we need now is the weather. Most times when we’ve been to Devon we’ve been very lucky. In fact, usually, the weather is so hot there’s a drought on. Seriously, there’s a place called Becky Falls where, we are assured, the water crashes down over the rocks pretty much all year. But on the four occasions we’ve been there it’s been dry enough to walk and climb on the rocks without getting our feet wet.

But this is all in September and who knows what the weather will be doing by then? Could be an Indian summer or it might be snow. Guess we’ll just do what we normally do: hope for the best but expect the worst. Reet’s sister, Pat, will be coming with us, which is only fair I suppose, since she’s paying for most of it. It’s going to be a very lazy holiday I think since Reet doesn’t like to get up too early in the mornings and Pat is too ill to move too quickly before 10am. That’s, okay though, It’ll give me a few hours to myself every day. I’ll have my camera with me and plenty of reading material. I’ll also be taking my laptop so if the weather is too dismal I can do some writing. All the sightseeing will be left till the afternoons and will no doubt finish with a cream tea and a scone somewhere along the river. I can think of worse ways to end the day.

After the holiday we’ll be looking to get a dog. We talked about it some time ago and we kept putting it off but now I think the time is right. We’ve settled on a Labrador. This is something of a compromise as I wanted something huge and lolloping but Reet wanted a spaniel. Well, there was no way I was going to be seen walking a sissy looking Spaniel and, to be honest, the house is way too small for a big St Bernard or a Great Dane. So, a Lab it will be, eventually. There are a few rescue centres around so we can take our time and choose wisely. Of course, we won’t agree on a name but I’ve already told Reet that whatever she calls it, I’ll be calling it Fido. I think all dogs should be called Fido and all cats should be called Tiddles. That would make things so much easier all round don’t you think? (Mind you, that’s not what I call the cats who keep leaving their mess-ages all over my garden.)

Today I drew Mexico in the world cup sweepstake so that was a fiver wasted. Still, I cheered them on as they played their way to a 1-1 one draw today against South Africa. It could have been worse I guess, I might have drawn England.

Tomorrow (Saturday), I’m off to a stag night for a guy who used to work with me. There are a few of us going from work so it ought to be a good night although we will be watching the England match along the way so there’s every chance it will end in tears. And on Sunday, hangover permitting, I’ve been roped into cutting Pat’s hedges. Can’t wait for that! The hedge at the front of the house is okay but she has a hedge in the back garden that’s vicious as hell. It’s about six feet high, four feet across and runs the length of her garden – and it has spikes on it that are two inches long! They are the most horrible things to cut as you can’t help but get scratched to pieces even when just bagging up the rubbish at the end of play. I’m very tempted to borrow a chain saw and cut the height to around four feet. At least I wouldn’t then have to balance precariously on a step ladder whilst trying to cut the damn things.

So that’s my weekend pretty much planned, I hope yours is more exciting.

Cheerie – bye. x

Shelfari

2010-05-11T07:50:00.004+01:00

I’ve added a bookshelf to my sidebar. They’re very personal things, bookshelves. I don’t know about you but I find it fascinating to find out what people read. It gives you a little insight into what kind of people they are don’t you think?

I used to keep almost every book I read which was fine when we lived in a high rise flat with a living room so huge we had three full book cases along one wall! Then, when we moved to this house the book cases had to go, there was simply no room. And if the bookcases went then the books would have to go too, it was a simple matter of logistics. Getting rid of my beloved books though, wasn’t quite so simple. I procrastinated for days over which ones to keep and which to give away but necessity won through in the end. I put on my determined face, braced myself for the affray and, with loins as girded as could be, I tackled the almost impossible task of whittling fifteen shelves of books down to just three. (Well, four if you count the cupboard full of cookery books in the kitchen.)

There were some tough choices to make along the way but here I am a good few years later and I’m still managing with those same three shelves. (Not neat and tidy like that pretty little Shelfari thing in my side bar – but then who has bookshelves that look like that!?) I’ll willingly admit, they’re a little overcrowded these days and in grave need of another downsizing but that chore has become a little easier with time and now I can be quite brutal about it when I have to. Many books I buy I can simply pass along to friends and family once I’ve read them and only a select few can find a permanent place there to be re-read at a later date.

Here’s a strange thing though. I hadn’t been signed up to Shelfari for more than a day when I received two emails from fellow Shelfari signer uppers, both asking me if they should read this or that book. Now, to me, that’s just odd. I mean, you wouldn’t stop a stranger in the street just because he’s carrying a book, and say “excuse me, but do you think I should read that book too?” Would you? How am I supposed to know if a complete stranger will enjoy the same books as me? I swap books all the time with a couple of friends but that’s because we’ve spoken about them and we know what each other likes. But these people don’t know me from Adam so why would they want my opinion on whether they should read something? Very strange indeed.

It occurs to me though, that you can probably tell as much about a person from the books that are not put on the shelves as you can from those that are. And seeing as that’s what this entry is about – putting a bit of myself out there – I thought I’d leave you with a few of those that didn’t, for one reason or another, make it from the real world to the virtual:

The third Chronicles of Thomas Covenant

Tales of Baron Munchausen

Mr God, this is Anna

The works of Rudyard Kipling

The works of Oscar Wilde

Bernard Cornwall (Tales of Roman legionaries)

Far Side cartoons

A host of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books

More Stephen King and Dean Koontz

The little Prince

The rest of Spike Milligan’s war memoirs

Readers Digest book of facts

The Bible

History of photography

Many books on selected photographers

A Guide to badminton tactics

O.E.D, Roget’s Thesaurus,

Various dictionaries: Reverse; Quotations; Slang; English/Spanish; English/Italian; English/Greek; English/French

And let's not forget that cupboard full of cookery books in the kitchen.

So there you have it, a little glimpse into my reading habits, make of it what you will.

Tatty - bye. X

Twenty years and counting!

2010-04-27T00:40:00.001+01:00

Next month (May 3rd) I will reach the age of fifty five. Not really a milestone of any sort I know but it occurs to me that both my dad and my Grandad died in their seventies and both on April 1st. Although I’m the youngest of five I tend to think I’m more like my dad than any of my siblings so, if that similarity carries through, then it’s very likely that I have just twenty or so years left. A sobering thought to be sure and it’s got me thinking. Could I have done better for myself with this life? Have I grasped opportunities as they arose, taken a chance or two when the easier route would be to sit tight? Could I have bettered myself in my career? Should I have had kids? Am I satisfied with my lot? Am I happy? Have I been a good husband…? And what about the future. What do I want to do in the time that’s left? Should I draft up one of those ‘to do’ lists of things I’d like to do before I die? Maybe I ought to start planning my funeral already, just in case? ;O)

I’m not panicking it’s just that these are the thoughts that have crossed my mind of late. Of course, the first part is of little or no consequence. The past is done and dusted so I don’t really see much point in dwelling on what might have been. Do I have regrets? Yes, I probably do, but I believe everything happens for a reason and so even though there are some things I might have done differently, the chances are I learned something from the mistake. And if you look at it in that way, maybe it wasn’t a mistake after all. Perhaps the lesson is the important part. I sincerely believe that we’re all here to learn and to teach as we go along our life path. A bad example is still an example after all and if we learn from our own, or somebody else’s, mistakes then that’s a form of progress.

Through the years I’ve had a handful of what I would call epiphanies. Something approaching a premonition but not quite. One was about marrying Reet and another was about becoming a postman. These were just very strong gut feelings which came to pass. There was another one about me becoming a lollipop man too but that hasn’t happened yet and, if it does, I strongly believe I will have another epiphany. One where I see myself beating some snotty nosed, loud mouthed little oik about the head with my children crossing Sign! Seriously, it isn’t a job I could ever see myself doing and yet that feeling that it just might happen has never quite gone away.

So what should I do with my remaining years, I wonder? I remember when I was very young I went through a phase where I believed I was here to do something special. To make a huge difference to the world. I had no idea what that something was but I felt I was here to share a most important message. Lofty ideas eh? And in some ways the idea is still with me. Somewhere, deep inside, the gnawing, nagging idea that I have something to say, is still simmering gently on the back boiler. So if I have a need or a wish to do anything at all before I die, it’s to get that message, that revelation, out of me and into the world. I think that’s why I keep on writing. Even though I’ve had a drought on the word front of late, the urge to write has never gone away, just the inspiration. So now I figure I’ve got twenty odd years discover what it is I’m trying to share. Sounds like plenty of time but since I’ve already been at it for a good twenty five years without success it narrows the odds considerably.

I’ve grown up a little though. I’m no longer expecting to deliver some earth shattering, mind blowing piece of prose that will instantly transform the world into a peaceful, loving community, no awe inspiring insight into how we should all get along and be nice to each other. But I do believe it’s special. I think that every one of us, in our own way, is sending a message. We’re also receiving messages from others as we do so. Not always in a big way, not with any global significance, but in our own small communities, our families, friends, fellow bloggers. Words do have power, I believe that. What we write in our journals can influence others as much as a moving song or a rousing speech. Of course, not everyone will be nodding their heads in agreement with what I’m writing here, some will think I’m just babbling. But maybe one or two of you will agree that when we put our ideas out there as we do with every journal entry, when we open ourselves up and share a little of ourselves with the small community of readers, we may just make someone sit up and think about something. And maybe that someone will be influenced enough to change their ways or attitudes. Maybe they’ll be inspired to write something of as much importance from their own hearts. And isn’t that what we’re looking for? To be read and for people to take something from the reading, even if it’s just a smile or a giggle?

Most of my journal entries are quite light hearted. I try to goof it up and have a laugh with it along the way, but some of you may remember my earlier journal entries when we were with AOL. I wrote some deeply personal entries about my family and it’s those entries that mean more to me. Sure I enjoy the fun ones too but when I’m writing from the heart, all guns blazing and burning a trail across the page, that’s when I feel like I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. And this is where it gets confusing because I’m now thinking that maybe my message, this thing I so need to share, is actually unfolding in all these journal entries a little at a time. Maybe I’m not going to write a blockbusting world saving masterpiece but just a series of heartfelt entries that touch others of the same ilk. Perhaps it’s just the act of being myself and putting myself out there that’s going to affect people. I certainly read many blogs that inspire me. Some have angered and upset me too but that’s okay, it’s all grist for the mill and fuels further reading and writing on my own part.

I’d like to learn to play a musical instrument. Now that’s not too ambitious and it’s certainly something I can work on. Through various stages of my life I’ve wanted to be a drummer, a pianist and a saxophonist, maybe now is the time to take one of them on. That idea, along with a couple of others, came to me as I lay in bed last night thinking over what I’d written. I’d also like to write my own epitaph. I’ve been thinking about this for some time and it isn’t as easy as I first thought. I mean, do I go for something amusing or something dour and insightful? Well, okay, it’s got to be funny but it needs to be something really special and memorable if it’s to be my last words to the world. And I’ve only got twenty years to conjure something up!

But It’s a strangely taboo subject, dying. I mentioned to someone in work that I reckon I’ve only got about twenty years or so left and they were shocked. “Oh, don’t even talk like that!” was their response. But hey, we’re all going to die, no point avoiding the issue. Personally, I’m not afraid of dying at all. I’m quite looking forward to that next big step in the great adventure we call life. That doesn’t mean I want to go tomorrow, it just means that when the time comes I’m ready. The nature of my passing however, is a little more worrying. (I’d like to die in my sleep like my grandad did, not screaming and crying like the passengers on his bus.) Seriously though, I don’t fancy dying in any sort of pain, who would? But I must admit I’d like to know when I was going to go. I once dreamed I was asking someone (an angel?) when I was going to die and I woke up just as they were going to tell me. I was so disappointed! I’ve had many dreams where I’ve actually died. And I once dreamed that I was helping others to make the transition from this life to the next (weird stuff dreams).

But just imagine if you knew the exact date you were due to go. Wouldn’t that be great? You could put all your affairs in order, say your goodbyes, make plans to ‘contact’ your loved ones back here (and indeed, over there). You could even plan your own funeral. (Now that could be a laugh and a half, how about a vicars and tarts dress theme for the occasion?). Most importantly though, you could spend heaps on your credit card without having to pay it back.

Of course, it’s easy talking about such things when they’re still quite a way off but I wonder I’d really cope and how I’d actually spend that time if I knew they were my last few weeks? How would you spend yours?

As you can see, my beliefs do kind of edge towards the idea of reincarnation. It’s a much more comforting thought than just being worm food. And let’s face it, if I’m wrong, it won’t matter anyway. I wonder what I’ll come back as or whether I’ll even have a choice in the matter?

As for the other stuff, the material things like career prospects and wealth etc. I don’t have a great deal of concern for them. I’ll never be rich but I don’t think I’ll ever have serious money problems. I’ve believed for some years now that I/we are being looked after on that score. Mind you, with Reet still out of work, I could be wrong and that definitely wouldn’t bode well for the future! As I’ve said, I’m mostly content with where I am in my life. Sure, things could always be better in some areas but who’d want everything to be perfect? How boring would that be? And besides, it’s how we deal with those very challenges that shapes our lives and, quite possibly, prepares us for the next. And wherever the next twenty years takes me I’m sure it’ll be an interesting journey. That’s assuming I don’t get run over by a bus in the meantime, of course!

Toodle-Pip. x

Flue Flirtations.

2010-04-13T00:48:00.004+01:00

You have no idea how much effort it took to get that last entry sorted out. Every time I uploaded a photograph it appeared at the top of the page and had to be slowly edged all the way down to its correct position in the text. It took ages. But then, once I’d finished I discovered I could upgrade to a newer version of blogger which, apparently, makes uploading pictures much easier. I say apparently because as of yet I haven’t tried it. That’s what this entry is all about. I thought I’d give it a test run and see how it fares. Judging by my last experience I guess it can only be improvement, but we shall see.

For the test I thought I’d treat you to some photos of one of my pet subjects - chimneys! (Alright, calm down now. All that excitement isn’t good for the blood pressure you know.) I read in some photography book some years ago that it’s a good idea to find yourself a theme if you want to fuel your desire to take photographs. On checking through my thousands of photos I found I had several of some odd looking chimneys so, although I’m just a tad curious as to where this flue fetish came from and, more to the point, where it may lead, it seems my subject matter had already been decided.

The trouble with taking pictures of chimneys though, is the angle of view. You’re almost always looking up so the composition is fairly limited. But they are everywhere and come in all shapes and sizes (riveting stuff this, eh?) so the many variations stop it from becoming boring. (Oh yes they do!)

Of course, there are occasions where you get lucky and can find a higher viewpoint to shoot from. The next few shots were all taken from a high rise car park in the middle of town.

Okay, I believe I’ve spoiled you enough with these fascinating excerpts from my private collection. You can have too much of a good thing you know. ;O) But if you’re really good, maybe I’ll treat you to some pictures from my street lamp collection. Bet you can’t wait for that!

In the meantime, I’ll attempt the final challenge and the main reason for this entry, uploading it all to my blog. It’s five minutes to midnight, what do you reckon on my chances of getting this done by twelve fifteen? Nah, me neither!

Tata. x

N.B. Well, it's done. Almost 1AM which is worse than I'd hoped but better than expected. In the meantime, the pictures didn't turn out anywhere near the places they should have. Why is this picture adding lark so damned fiddly!?

B.

Framed.

2010-03-29T23:42:00.016+01:00

Well, what do you know? I finally got some of my photographs frame and hanging on the wall. Reet went and bought some frames to put her several certificates in (she’s been doing quite well since she started her English classes: three OCR certificates and two awards for best short story. I’ve asked if I can show them around but she’s not keen on the idea. I won’t push her, I know how scared I was of showing my writing to others when I first started). As well as the English certificates she also has three certificates from the CLAIT course she took some time ago. So anyhoot, she went and bought some frames but they were not proper A4 size. Next week she went out and bought six more, still the wrong size. Third trip she got it right and now her achievements are hanging on the wall in our humble little office.

The other frames she bought were 14 x 12 inches and 12 x 10s. Six of each size. I won’t let them go to waste though. I’ve used some of them already and now some of my very own photos are hanging proudly at the top of the stairs.

I was out taking some more photographs a couple of Sundays ago. A friend has asked me to take a picture of a local church with the intention of having it enlarged and framed as an anniversary gift for her sister and brother in law. I’ve got to say, as churches go, this one was pretty mundane. It’s quite a large feature of the landscape but doesn’t have a lot of character. Never the less, I did my best, even used my tripod to minimize the camera shake. I also tried changing it to black and white and adding some lens flare but I’m not sure it’s much of an improvement. It’s a good job it was early on a Sunday morning otherwise there would have been a lot more traffic and cars parked in the way. As it was I was able to move about all over the open road most of the time.

The thing is, there are two churches practically right next to each other in this road and I wasn’t sure which one they wanted shots of, so I took some of both. And if you think the first one had no character just take a look at the other one.

See what I mean? It’s a good job they’ve got the huge sign and the cross on the wall otherwise you could be forgiven for mistaking it for a prison. There’s a tawdriness about both of them that is almost depressing and no amount of fancy photo-shopping can take that away I’m afraid. I certainly wouldn’t want a picture of either of them hanging in my house.

Whilst I was out and about I thought I’d take a few more pics of local landmarks, mainly because many of them will be pulled down to build more blocks of flats in the very near future. In my youth there were no less than ten pubs around here, now there are just six left and, well, you’d have to be a very brave man to enter most of them! Of the ones that have closed, two are still boarded up, one is now a drive through MacDonalds and the other has reopened as a fancy restaurant.

It’s a shame to see some of the old pubs go though. I know that, as a society, we’ve outgrown the old spit and sawdust dives that used to be the norm but at least they had their own character in those days and when the smaller breweries were all vying for competition there was more pride put into the production of their own brand of beer. Now, it’s all bottled lagers and frothy bitters that keep their chemically enhanced head all the way to the bottom of the glass. Very nice to look at but not so great on the taste.

But it isn’t just the pubs that have suffered over the years. There was a time when if I needed a few nails I could go to the little hardware store down the road and by a couple of ounces. Now I have to drive to B & Q (which doesn’t even cater for a walking customer!) and pay extortionate prices for a bag of six screws/nails or buy a box of 100. And the smaller shops would make every effort to find the item you wanted. If they didn’t have it in stock they’d make the effort to phone around and have it sent in for you. You try getting that service at B & Q or Wickes if you’re only spending twenty quid or so.

On my little jaunt I also took some photos of the local community centre, the only youth club in the area and the police station. Why? Because, rumour has it, they’re all destined to be wiped out to make way for new housing. I’m reliably informed that it’s an area of around ten acres, which includes the only two football fields in the town and a huge lump of the public park. The police station will be no great loss as for the last five years they’ve never been open at all. The sorting office I work in is situated right behind it and we see people come and go all day long but if you’re a member of the public trying to get some help or report a crime you’ve got no chance because the front doors are covered by a metal shutter. There’s a phone outside for you to make any reports but it diverts your call to Gawd knows where, probably a call centre in India if present trends are maintained!

But anyway, my main reason for taking all these photos is because somewhere in the back of my mind is half an idea that I might write about all the changes I’ve seen in my fifty odd years here. Whether this will ever bear fruit I don’t know but even if I don’t use the pics I reckon some local historian might be able to make use of them sometime in the future.

All for now then. Toodle-pip. x

Return of the prodigal.

2010-03-16T00:25:00.005Z

Cor blimey! Look at the dust in here! Best send Wifey in with the duster if I’m thinking of settling back in. What? No really, she needs the exercise, trust me! ;O)

It’s a year to the day since my last entry so I thought I’d poke my head in the door and look the place over. It has that neglected look about it of course and even the dust has dust on it but, other than that, it’s pretty much as I left it. I’m not sure why I felt the need to ease off but I think it was the right decision as I haven’t written anything of substance since my last entry. And it’s not just my journal that’s suffered. My family magazine has been equally neglected and I’ve only just completed the first edition in more than a year. Whether this was some kind of writer’s block or just an after effect of all the medication I was on I don’t know but the creative juices have certainly not been flowing for some time. Hopefully though, with this entry things will change and I’ll get back to writing on a more regular basis very soon.

So, what’s been going on in the year that I’ve been away? Well, to tell the truth, not much has changed in my life. I’m still awaiting early retirement, we still haven’t got a dog and Reet is still out of work. I still enjoy a brandy and I go out for breakfast most Sundays. My new knee is working well although the other one is still a pain, but you can’t have everything can you. And that’s me up to date with the news already. You can see why I stopped the writing can’t you?

Just before Christmas I ‘won’ two laptops. I’ve been looking for a dirt cheap laptop for ages. I didn’t need anything hi spec, just something that could handle Windows and Word. Well, one of the guys I work with said that his wife’s company were auctioning off their old pcs and plasma screens as they make way for more modern ones. I put a bid in for two of the laptops figuring I wasn’t likely to win either of them. I was wrong and ended up paying fifty quid for one of them and thirty for the other. Not bad for a laptop eh?
Once I’d installed all the necessary software the thirty quid one worked okay except for a sticky mouse. Every now and then, for no apparent reason, the curser makes its way to the top right hand corner of the screen and the only way to shift it is to tap the mouse pad firmly a couple of times. Irritating, yes, but a minor problem for the price, I think. The fifty quid one proved more of a challenge as the screen went blank whenever the machine had been on for ten minutes or so. I did complain to the people who sold me it, after all, I know fifty quid is cheap but I at least expected the thing to work.

Well, the short of it is they refused to refund my money as they claimed the payment had already been passed along to charity. Now, the guy who instigated the sale started feeling a bit guilty about it all, even though I didn’t hold him responsible, but he took up the reins and, with his help, we managed to buy a new screen from ebay and get the thing working properly. The laptop ended up costing around £100 by the time we’d finished. Still cheap for a laptop I know, but much more than I had intended to pay. Mind you, now that I’ve got it home and loaded all my software on it I think I prefer it to the other one so maybe I’ll keep it. I’ll sell the other, cheaper one off and get back the money we spent and all will be well again.

I’ve also bought a wireless printer which is great as it means I can have it on the other side of the room, cluttering up Reet’s desk instead of mine. As well as a wireless printer I’ve also got a wireless router now. I can’t tell you the headaches I had trying to sort all this out. I’m not the most technical minded person in the land and by the time I’d finished dabbling with it I had six wireless networks on my computer and none of them worked! In the end I paid someone to come and iron out the mess I’d made and set things right. Money well spent as far as I’m concerned.

All this tech talk has turned this into rather a dull entry I’m afraid but as it’s gone midnight I need to sign off, especially as I’ve still got to remember how to upload this to my journal before I hit the hay.

I promise not to leave it another year before writing and in the meantime I’ll try to catch up with some blog reading of my own.

Cheerie – bye.
B. x

4am!

2009-03-15T05:03:00.015Z

Sunday morning and once more I find myself up with the lark. My sleep patterns are getting diabolical lately. I’m wide awake in the early hours and can’t keep my eyes open all afternoon and evening. I’ve given up trying to watch TV of a night time because I always miss the ends of the programmes. Still, being up this early has given me a chance to make this entry before I nip off for a fry up at our local café. Well, when I say ‘local’ it’s actually a twenty minute drive away. It’s our last visit to this particular café though as we discovered a better one last weekend that’s a little closer to home.

This afternoon will be spent watching England trounce France at rugby (yeah, right!). After that, I have to cook dinner for six and indulge a five year old in a game or two of Sorry. Then, in the evening, if I can stay awake, I have to beat my brother at snooker on my PC. My brother has a full size snooker table in his shed and yet, on my computer, I can beat him almost every game. Mind you, he’s sworn to get his revenge when we come face to face with real snooker cues. At the moment I’ve been avoiding the thrashing by claiming I’m not fit enough to spend two hours walking around a snooker table but I don’t think he’ll put up with that excuse for much longer.

Last week was also time for a check up on my knee. The specialist seems to think I’m doing really well so that’s good news. He also advised me to switch to some anti-inflammatory pills to reduce the swelling as I have a fair bit of fluid around the knee. I’ve been keeping an eye on it and I think the new pills are doing the trick. I’ll go back in a fortnight or so to have a steroid injection in my other knee to help ease the pain and, if necessary, he’s offered to inject the replacement knee too. Hopefully, these further treatments will finally get me back to a more normal way of life. By that, I mean, I’d at least be able to walk the one mile to work and back each day without any problems. I’m also hoping it will enable me to lay off of some of the pills I’ve been taking.

Reet’s still working and, to all those who inquired, no, she doesn’t model the undies, and no, she doesn’t get a discount. It remains to be seen whether any of you will get a little discount if you mention that you know us. Can’t hurt to try can it? Here’s the website again:
http://www.bomberbear-designs.co.uk/ (Well, you can’t blame me for plugging it. The more business they get, the more Reet’s out of the house.)

Another week off work for me this week. And there’s another week to come when I go back to the hospital for the injections. I’ve a week in May too and still a good few days holiday left to book. At this rate I won’t need to retire early, it’s almost as though I’m working part time already. Reet’s got some plans for this week though. On Tuesday it’s Pat’s (Reet’s sister) sixtieth birthday and over the last few months Reet’s been trying to amass sixty presents for her. If you’ve ever tried it, you’ll know it’s neither an easy nor a cheap idea. We haven’t had a count up but I reckon we’re only around halfway so Monday is going to be a chase around the shops to complete the task. I’m happy to say it will fall to Reet to wrap them all! On the Tuesday we’ll buy her some flowers and take her for a meal (she likes Harvesters so she isn’t too expensive on that score). I reckon if we wrapped each flower that would take us nearer the sixty mark. Likewise the earrings and the socks.

I’ve been having a little fun though because we’ve bought her some photo frames and I’ve been taking some portraits of her son and his family. I had hoped to have a chance to practice with my slave flash and a brolly but decided it would be a little difficult getting a five year old and a kiddie of eighteen months to hold their patience whilst I fiddled with my gadgets. In the end, time was extremely limited on both visits so I had to settle for the built in flash. The results were okay though. Not special but okay. Today I have to search the attic for a box of old family photos that we’re hoping to somehow present to Pat. At the very least we hope to find so embarrassing childhood snap of Pat (the SIL) to have put onto a cake. I don’t even know how they do that! And, apparently, it only takes ten minutes. All clever stuff eh?

Once Tuesday is out of the way I have a couple of DIY jobs to do but I’ve told Reet that I want at least one day to myself for a photography outing. I haven’t decided where this will take me just yet but I’m looking forward to it.

So there you are, that’s my week ahead all planned out. And it all starts with brekkie in about an hour’s time so I’d best get my skates on.

Cheerie – bye. x

Here I am!

2009-03-06T17:48:00.007Z

My apologies for the long absence and my thanks to all those who have emailed me asking how I am. I’ll try to pop in more often in future, if only to let you know I’m okay.

Everything is okay here and there’s very little to tell you. My knee continues to improve and I’m due back at the specialists next week for my five month check up. I’m hoping to get an injection in my other knee to ease the pain and then I’ll be even better.

On the work front, the voluntary redundancy offers will soon be doing the rounds after all but, unless they offer me something very substantial I’ve pretty much convinced myself that I’m better off staying there. It’s still a case of wait and see really but it’s looking more likely as though I’ll be with Royal Mail for the next six years at least, assuming the government don’t sell us all off to private enterprise. If you’ve been keeping up with the news of late, you’ll know that’s a very distinct possibility. Personally, I think it’s the wrong way to go and once they’ve begun the sell-off they’ll soon be tempted to sell the rest. You watch how much your postage goes up once that happens! And if you’re unfortunate enough to live in the more remote areas of the British Isles the cost will be even more expensive. I can’t see any private company offering a first class service to every corner of the country for less than forty pence, can you?

At home there’s some good news. Reet’s got a job! She was offered a place with a friend of ours who is starting his own business. He’s selling saucy underwear from a unit in Harlow, which is just a forty minute drive away. Feel free to take a peek but beware, some of it is not for the faint hearted as it caters for those more adventurous souls amongst us, if you know what I mean. http://www.bomberbear-designs.co.uk/ That’s the industry Reet has worked in for the last forty years so he knows she’s worth her weight in gold. He’s only small potatoes at the moment so he’s offering Reet three days work per week with the opportunity to do more as and when the company grows. He certainly seems to know his stuff so we have high hopes for the place. Personally, I’m just pleased Reet’s back in the land of employment. She was getting far too used to being a lady of leisure and, to be sure, she was losing confidence after being out of work so long. Hopefully, this few days work per week will help in that respect. It won’t do the bank balance any harm either. The most important thing of all though is that I’ll get a few hours of peace when I come home from work now! ;O)

We haven’t got a dog yet but I’m still working at it. Trust me, by the time my birthday arrives (May) it will be a done deal. Like I said, I always get my own way in the end. In the meantime I’m watching every episode of the Dog Whisperer and learning all the tips and tricks. Anyone seen him? He’s quite amazing. I’m thinking of trying out some of his techniques on Reet. Who knows, I might be able to teach her to bring me my pipe and slippers. Well, okay, she might bring them but there’s no telling where she’d put them, hehe.

And on that note I’ll say tata and leave you with a promise to stop by more often.

Toodle-pip. x

Back to work.

2009-01-15T12:32:00.005Z

Well, I’m in my second week back to work and everything is going okay. The knee is holding up fine and it’s really good to have some kind of routine back in my life. For the three months I was off work I kind of put my life on hold and just drifted. It was fine for a while but it’s not really me. In fact, I’m now having second thoughts about looking for early retirement. I’ve come to realise that I need that routine in my life. If I took the early retirement I’d have to find another job sooner or later because, let’s face it, whatever payoff they might give me is not going to last forever. But the more I consider another job the more I realise how much I like the one I’ve got. If the offer comes up in the next year or so I’ll still check it out and see how much they’re offering but there’s more at stake than just having money in the bank. Of course, it’s quite possible the opportunity will never present itself in any case. The rumours of massive job cuts (£50,000 is the latest estimate) have been around for years and still nothing concrete has been offered. The way this company drags its heels the offer won’t reach me till I’m due for my proper retirement!

I was quite amazed at how unfit I’d become during the last three months. I felt okay but just before Christmas I spent an hour walking around the shops and by the end of it my knees were killing me. Then when I returned to work last week, for the first few days my legs were aching like crazy. So I’m now trying to get a little more exercise, even if it’s just walking to work or walking to the shops to get a paper. I suggested to Reet that we buy a dog, something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. The thing is, I’m not sure I’m ready to take on the responsibility. Sure it’s fun to go walking and training it etc but there’s so much more to consider. For a start there’s the expense. Vets bills are not cheap and neither is dog food. Then there’s the task of finding somebody to look after it if we go on holidays abroad. My heart tells me I’m ready to take it all on but my head keeps putting all these problems in the way. To be honest, I’m sure if we did get a job the rewards would far outweigh the inconveniences and we’d soon adjust our lives to suit, but convincing Reet of this is another matter. We also have differences in which dog we’d like. I like big slobbery dogs like Great Danes or Boxers but Reet doesn’t. She likes Spaniels and Collies. I think we may have found a compromise though as we both like Labradors. Still, it’s not going to happen just yet in any case. Maybe I’ll keep putting the pressure on and see if I get one for my birthday. ;O) (You know she always gives in to me don’t you?)

I’ve been very remiss of late. I’ve neglected my journals big time and haven’t been reading any blogs for weeks. I think this was a general aversion to my computer more than anything else. After three months of passing time between it and the TV I needed a rest. Hopefully though, now that I’m back at work and things are settling back into a routine I’ll be able to catch up with you all.

Okay, that’s me done for today. I hope the new year is being kind and all your resolutions have been broken quickly so you can return to normality.

Cheerie-bye. x

Remember me?

2008-12-24T13:31:00.001Z

I know, I know, it’s been ages since I wrote anything. I’m not sure why that happened. I guess I just needed a break. So, for those who are still curious, the picture I showed you a couple of entries back was actually a tape cassette. For those who don’t remember, well, don’t worry about it. Just forget I mentioned it.

Okay, so what’s been going on while I’ve been truanting? Well, the short answer is ‘not much’. I’m still off work recovering from my replacement knee op. The knee is doing okay although I’ve had to increase my painkillers again. I think I cut back on them a little too soon is all. I’m back to work in a couple of weeks so I guess I’ll have a better idea how well it’s mending once I get back to that. It’ll be good to have some normality back in my life in any case.

I’ve been out for drinks with the boys from work on a couple of occasions. One was a leaving do and the other, just last Saturday, was the Christmas party. All good fun, even though I’m still finding I don’t enjoy the alcohol as much as I did. That’s a good think I guess but it remains to be seen what I’ll do with all the brandy I have in my cabinet.

A couple of Sundays ago I went on a day trip to France and Belgium to get Reet some cheap cigarettes. It was a bit of a shock this time around as the prices have gone up tremendously. This wasn’t helped by the fact that the pound was struggling against the euro. We only got fifty five euros for fifty quid. It still worked out cheaper than buying them in the UK though so it was worth the trip.

On arrival in France the coach headed straight for Belgium where we stocked up on the ciggies. Then they headed back across the border for the cheap booze. We stopped at a place called Euro-Cité, a huge sprawling shoppers paradise. I kid you not, this place was massive. If any of you have seen the Metro Centre in Newcastle you’ll have an idea of the size. I think the Metro just about wins the crown though.

We spent a while checking out the non existent bargains in the hypermarket before making our way to the eateries. If we were disappointed with the lack of savings in the shops we were gobsmacked at the price of the meal: twenty two quid for two omelettes with chips and a couple of beers! Still, it didn’t stop us finding a bar afterwards and savouring the excellent Belgian beers on offer. Yes, I know I said I’m off alcohol but we didn’t have much, and besides, Belgian beer is just too good to pass up.

It was a pretty good day all round with no mishaps to speak of. The weather, which had been cold and frosty in England, turned mild and sunny by the time we got to France. On a previous trip back in August we managed to get lost and almost missed the coach home. We didn’t have any such trouble this time. The biggest miracle though was the fact that the coach didn’t get stopped at customs on our return journey. Every other time we’ve done this journey they’ve searched the coach and all but strip searched the passengers. One time they even held a couple on suspicion of illegal entry into the country. This time though they simply checked our passports and sent us merrily on our way which meant we actually arrived home at a reasonable time.

So that was France. Since then the weeks have been filled with preparing for Christmas: writing cards, buying and wrapping presents etc. We thought we’d have trouble putting the decorations up this year as I refuse to put pins into the newly plastered ceilings and freshly painted wallpaper. As it happened though, we had boxes of stuff in the attic that we inherited from my mum. We’ve hardly used any of it over the years but this time, on closer inspection, we found plenty of pretties to hang from the wall lights and free standing ornaments to fill the shelves. Good old mum.

Okay, I think that’s me pretty much up to date. As you can see there hasn’t been too much going on but the next few days will be busy. We’ll have a quiet Christmas day with just me, Reet and her sister. Then, on Boxing day we’ll have our niece and nephew round with their two ankle biters. And on Saturday brother John is holding a little party for a few of us. That’ll do for starters. We haven’t made plans for new years eve but that will probably be a stay-at-home job. Especially since the pubs expect you to pay an extortionate entrance fee and the cabs will double their prices. That’s okay though, we did more than our share of partying over the years and we’re quite happy to spend the evening in with Jools and friends on the telly.

Happy Christmas and a spiffing new year to you all.

Toodlepip. x

Hey, look what I got:

2008-11-19T16:17:00.011Z

This is the ‘Marie-Antoinette real people, real award.

The rules are:
1. Please put the logo on your blog
2. Place a link to the person from whom you received the award
3. Nominate at least 7 or more blogs
4. Put the links of those blogs on your blog
5. Leave a message on their blogs to tell them

Having only recently washed up on these Blogger shores after being cast adrift by AOL, I haven’t really found my feet yet. I’ve yet to surf for any real length of time and discover new journals although one or two have found their way into my regular reading list. Nevertheless, it remains a fact that most of my current blog visits are to those who joined me in the mass exodus from AOL. I thought this award would be an ideal chance for me to share some of those pages with our new friends here at Blogspot. My thanks to Ken for nominating me, I'm truly honoured. And a happy 7th anniversary to you and Beth.

Here then, in no particular order, are my seven tips for enjoyable reading:

First up is Lyn:

http://lyn-britsblog.blogspot.com/
Lyn is a Brit, married to Lester, a U.S. Military man and living in Florida. Take a look, you’ll soon discover that it’s not all beaches and margueritas whilst waiting for her man to return from his postings. (Well actually, there are quite a few margueritas.)

Next we have Holly:

http://welcometohollyslife.blogspot.com/
Holly is a no nonsense, straight shooting gal from West Virginia, telling life just as it is, warts and all. Guaranteed to have you chuckling and wheezing from one misadventure to the next.

Third on my list is:

http://brainwhispers.blogspot.com/
Ah, now what can I possibly say about Mr Brainwhispers? Well, he likes to eat, that will become obvious from the outset. His writing has a knack of, not so much drifting, as crashing headlong, like a charging rhino, into the surreal zone. He’s also a dab hand with a camera. Go, enjoy.

Ally:

http://wwwlifewithally.blogspot.com/
Ally lives in deepest, darkest Norfolk (UK) where she enjoys a peaceful country life with her daughter, Lyn, and two dogs, Barney and Nin. Like many of us from AOL, Ally is still finding her feet here but I have no doubt that if you pop over for a visit, she’ll find time to welcome you with open arms and nice cup of tea.

And here we have Jayne:

http://funnyface-homealone.blogspot.com/
Jayne lives in Cornwall, the land of pixies, pasties and, if Jayne could have her way, pinkness. Jayne cruises the Cornish countryside with Miss Latte, her recently acquired soft top convertible Nissan. When she’s not creating hand made girlie wear she can usually be found arranging fab girlie nights out and entertaining meals in for herself and all her friends. Go take a peek, but watch out for the pink!

Andy:

http://andy-andyslife.blogspot.com/
Andy is lucky enough to live in the garden of England –Kent, where he spends his working days doing audits for the railway and his down time enjoying quality jazz. After thirty years of travelling the length and breadth of the country by rail, Andy has some revealing and informative stories to tell and, I’m sure, enough network knowledge to write a book on the subject. He has a birthday looming too so why not go wish him a happy birthday.

Last, but by no means least then, we come to Bea:

http://anewbridge.blogspot.com/

Bea is an art teacher in a North Carolina elementary school. Bea is also a wife, mother, and unofficial overseer to the new bridge that’s being erected nearby. I’m sure you’ll enjoy learning along with Bea’s classes as she tells us how and why a certain topic was chosen, and you’ll marvel at the enthusiasm of the kids when you see the work that Bea inspires. If you visit, I’m sure you will, like me, wonder why there were never teachers like Bea when we were at school.

And that’s my seven. I could of course go on, but rules is rules so I’ll rest there and give you all a chance to go meet these new friends. Just before I go however, since I’m having trouble getting my writing head on these days, (probably brought about due to the lack of inactivity in my life at present) I thought I’d put myself on the spot and open these pages up for a question time.

So if there’s anything about me that’s got you curious or if you’re just plain nosey, ask away. There I’ve said it. Let’s get this uploaded before I regret it.

Tata. x

All cheered up now.

2008-11-14T21:06:00.005Z

Thanks for all the kind thoughts regarding my last entry. It was a little downbeat, that’s for sure. I think it was just a case of letting the boredom get to me. The pain isn’t really an issue now. In fact, I’ve cut my painkillers back drastically. I’d cut them out completely but, apparently, it’s not a good idea to do that and I have to wean myself off them. It could well have been the effect of cutting the pills that caused the mood swing.

But I’m okay now. I’ve given myself a good stiff talking to, shaken myself firmly by the collar and now I’m getting back into the swing of things. I’ve been a little more occupied, which helps. Although, what’s been occupying my time has been more than a little irritating. Anyone who’s with AOL will have seen that little screen that pops up when you sign off sometimes – it says We are updating your files, please don’t interrupt this process, or words to that affect. Well, since one of those updates, I’ve lost all my favourite places and a whole batch of email addresses. I spent over an hour in the tech-chat room trying to sort it out yesterday and, although I did manage to retrieve my faves, the emails are still missing. To be honest, I’m getting more and more disillusioned with AOL lately and I’m checking out some other providers, just in case they push me too far.

I’ve also been spending time uploading a few more photos to my Flickr page, and look, I’ve even managed to set up a little slide show in my side bar. As well as this, I’ve been visiting my facebook account in the last few days. I’ve had the thing for ages but never used it because it irritates me. But my brother has just opened an account and keeps sending me messages through it. Mind you, he’s uploaded a lot of family photos recently so I was able to take a look at them, so it’s been good for one thing at least. Even so, I hope he tires of it fairly soon because I’m afraid Facebook just doesn’t appeal.

Today is Reet’s birthday. We went out for a pub lunch to celebrate. It was okay but they were so slow we thought we’d be celebrating Christmas as well by the time they fed us. Still, it was a break from the norm and that’s what counts.

Here’s a turn up – I think I’m going off alcohol!! No, seriously, I promised myself a brandy after my last entry but come the evening I didn’t really fancy it. I did pour a small one the day after but I didn’t finish it as I wasn’t enjoying it. Then, yesterday I cracked open a bottle of red wine and only had one glass before re-corking the bottle, a concept which is usually alien to me. And today, at the pub, I had a pint and didn’t finish it. When I was in my forties I used to drink quite a lot and often joked that I’d be either dead or tee-total by the time I was fifty. Well, I’ve made to fifty three and I’m still alive but who knows, maybe the tee-total thing might finally be kicking in. Ah well, better late than never I guess.

Okay, I’m rambling here, but hey, at least I’m writing again, that’s a good thing right? But I’ll leave you with a picture. See if you can guess what it is. (Hopefully I haven’t used it before). I’ll let you know in a day or two.

Toodle-pip. x

Bored, bored, bored..,

2008-11-08T13:26:00.009Z

I thought being off work for so long (five weeks and counting) would be great once the initial pain of my knee replacement op had eased. I figured I’d keep myself busy with plenty of reading and writing, and maybe a little photography here and there. But that hasn’t been the case. My imagination seems to have taken a holiday. Sure I’ve read a few books but there’s only so much reading you can do before the brain craves something different. All my attempts at writing have been in vain, whether it be a short story, something for my family magazine or simply making an entry here.

It’s not writer’s block, it’s a general apathy brought on, I’m sure, by the constant, nagging ache of my leg and the inability to remain in one position for any lentgh of time. I did manage to go into the garden and take a few pictures yesterday, but when I viewed them on my pc they seemed lack lustre and, once again, unimaginative, so I deleted them all and put my camera back in it’s case.

So what have I been doing? Well, that’s the trouble, I’ve done nothing of interest for weeks and I’m going stir crazy. I’ve been watching way too much TV simply because it’s the easiest thing to do and I can do it whether I’m sitting, standing or walking around to keep the knee mobile. But I swear my brain’s turning to mush.

I’ve lost track of the times I’ve sat myself down at this pc with the intention to write something, only to sit at a blank screen for ten minutes before sloping off to the games folder and indulging myself in yet more mundane pastimes.

Ooh, there has been one little bit of excitement. Last Saturday my brother held a fancy dress party. All the family turned up which was really great since it’s the only time we’ve all met up this year. Everybody made an effort with the costumes too which made it a fun evening. Other than that and a trip or two to the shops, I’ve not been very adventurous at all.

The knee is continuing to improve, albeit a little more slowly now. The aches and pains are par for the course and I’m sure they'll ease off as time goes by. Today is the last day that I have to inject myself with the anti-blood clotting agent and on Monday I get to ditch the Nora Battie anti-embolism stockings. Those are the two most exciting events I have to look forward to at the moment. That and the fact that I’ve promised myself a large brandy tonight.

Who knows, it may be just what I need to kickstart the old grey matter and get me writing something less inane than this dull and tedious entry. If you stayed with me this far, I can only admire your tenacity and I’ll leave you with a promise to try harder next time.

Till then, cheerie-bye. x

Update

2008-10-15T14:04:00.012+01:00

Okay, it’s about time I made the effort to put an entry in these here pages. I’ve been home since Friday but my ability to stay in any one place or position has been limited, to say the least. Also, my concentration hasn’t been so good due to the pain etc. But it’s a little better today so let’s see how we go.

I went into hospital on Tuesday and they operated in the afternoon. And ladies, I’d like to say, to any of you who have had to suffer an epidural, that you have my utmost respect. That damn needle hurt like hell even after two shots of excruciatingly cold anaesthetic spray. It did the trick though and I was relatively pain free for all of Wednesday. The worst part of the hospital stay was the lack of sleep. I’d wake at 2am and lie there in limbo till around six when the ward started waking up. The nurses did their checks through the night and topped me up on morphine, this sometimes helped me sleep a little, but mostly not. Thursday was physio-terrorist day. They had me exercising and clambering around on crutches all day. It was tough going at first, I have to say but it paid off. On Friday, once they were happy that I could handle stairs with my crutches, they let me come home.

They’re very concerned about DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) these days and I now find I have to wear Nora Battys for a few weeks. As well as this I also have to inject myself with some blood thinning stuff once a day.
(Nora Battys = surgical stockings)

Ah yes, the bell. I did use it a couple of times, just for a giggle but when it was quietly hinted at that, should I continue, my reasons for walking funny would have nothing to do with my recent knee op and might leave me with a permanent ringing in my lower regions, I stopped laughing. ;O) In truth though, I didn’t need the bell. Reet’s been fussing around me like an old mother hen (no offence Kath): “have you taken your pills? Have you done your exercises? You’re not sitting properly, don’t cross your legs…”

I do sound ungrateful don’t I? I don’t mean to and Reet’s really doing a fine job, honestly. It’s just that I’m not the best patient in the world. When I’m sick I’m like a wounded cat; I prefer to slink off somewhere and lick my wounds till I’m feeling better. I can’t stand being molly-coddled and I hate feeling so helpless and needy. But hey, we’ve been doing this marriage thing for a good while now and we don’t really offend each other.

As for the knee. Well, so far, so good. I’ve had the nurse popping in every other day or so to check it and make sure I’m doing my physio. Everything seems to be going as expected. I’m getting use to moving about on crutches and the leg is becoming stronger every day. I have about sixteen staples in my knee and the promise of a really impressive scar (I’ve got a picture if any of you are really brave). The staples will be removed in a week or so, apparently, by which time I should be just about ready to leave the crutches behind, or at least one of them. Zoiks! At this rate I’ll be back at work for the Christmas rush – and I don’t want that!

Thanks to you all for your good wishes and concerns, they’re most appreciated. I hope my fellow refugees from AOL are settling in to your new homes and I’d like to welcome any newcomers to my ramblings. Right now though, I think I’d best take a rest. My knee is becoming quite unhappy with it’s current position (hoiked up onto my computer desk with my keyboard in my lap) and is threatening to make me suffer all manner of agonies if I don’t do something about it a bit quick-smart.

Tata for now. x

Today's the day.

2008-10-07T09:09:00.003+01:00

Oh well, today’s the day of my knee replacement. Strangely, I don’t feel at all nervous about it. I figure they do these ops every day so there’s nothing to worry about. Reet, on the other hand, is like a cat on hot bricks, fussing and panicking all over the place. Well, not right at this moment she isn’t. At the moment she’s sleeping. I have approximately twenty five minutes of peace before I have to wake her up. Then the fun will begin: “Have you got this? Do you want that? Why do you want that…!?”

Oh she means well, of course, and sometimes all the attention to details pays off and she’ll remember something I need that had totally slipped my mind. By and large though, the fuss is born of a nervousness that couldn’t get any worse if she were having the op herself, so when the doc’s instructions state that I mustn’t eat anything after 7AM Reet’s nagging and tutting if I go a minute past the deadline. And although she insists I take my usual pills, she expects me to do it without a drink because it’s not allowed!

And she seems to get irritable if I don’t fall into the trap of letting the nerves take hold too. So, here I am, lazily taping away at my keyboard at 7.30 in the morning and I know that as soon as Reet gets up at eight o’clock she’ll be pestering me to get my case packed, make sure I’ve done this, check that I haven’t done that and, whatever happens, don’t forget those..!

What she doesn’t know is that yesterday I borrowed a bell from work and when I get home in four days or so I’m going to settle myself down on the sofa, wincing with pain and generally playing the male patient. ;O) and then, when she’s busying herself in the kitchen doing whatever it is she does after dinner, (even though we’ve got a dishwasher it still takes her the best part of ninety minutes to clear plates and wipe the cooker etc!) I’ll ring my little bell and call out feebly, “Reet, can you fluff my pillows please..?” and/or “Ree-eet, I can’t find the remote…” Or maybe, “Ree-eet, could you poor me a brandy please..?” I wonder how long I’ll get away with it before she makes me eat that damn bell!

So anyway, I’m all prepared for my hospital stay. My main concern has been to make sure I have a book to read and a pen and paper in case I feel up to writing something. I’ll take a crossword book along as well and Reet’s D.S. Lite, if only to irritate the other patients with it’s beeping and booping.

I’ve just made Reet another cuppa so it won’t be long before she’s up and about. That’ll be my cue to pop out for the paper. ;O) And it’s definitely my cue to finish up here so I’ll say my goodbyes and hope to see you on the other side of Friday. Or, should anything go wrong, maybe just on the other side, hehe.

Oh, and just in case you were curious: Click here to see what you'll be missing.

Toodle-pip.

A quick hello.

2008-10-04T17:45:00.000+01:00

This is just a short entry to christen my new home. I've decided not to move all my old files across with me but to start afresh.

This evening was supposed to be spent taking a Jack the Ripper tour around the east end of London but, unfortunately, I couldn't make it as I got a call from the hospital yesterday asking me to pop in and have some blood tests done, prior to my knee replacement operation which will take place on Tuesday next week.

I'm a bit disappointed that I couldn't go but, to be honest, I'm not sure my knee was up to the trek. The cold weather doesn’t help much on that score. (Had to scrape the frost off the car windows this morning!) Looks like this lousy summer is finally making a shamefaced exit, allowing the autumn to launch itself brazenly into the limelight.

Just before I head off to tackle a hearty portion of spaghetti bolognaise I’d like to welcome my fellow refugees from AOL to their new home. I’m sure we’ll all find each other over the next couple of months and once we’ve got to grips with Blogger we’ll be wondering what all the fuss and worry was all about. AOL will soon be a distant, painful memory.

Cheerie – bye. x

Oh. and there's a new email address to go with the new journal: Bukenop@aol.com.