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 |  Empty or full, shiny or a little in need of washing and sometimes just cracked! |
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I heard about these blogs and wondered why people would want to air their dirty laundry online. But I feel safe on this site so maybe it's worth a try. We'll see. This blog is complete. Please find my new blog from the link below...
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| I'm not sure I've ever seen such disgusting weather in May and how the British government can talk of droughts after three days of solid rain, I do not know. But I have my own axe to grind. Wet days mean no golf, gardening or manly outdoor activities and the opportunity to spend a little girly time alone is completely lost. Spending days in close proximity to males does make me ask a few questions about their behaviour however. 1. Why is it whenever I want to use the toilet or bathroom, there's always a man occupying it? Sometimes I swear there are at least two dozen men living in my house as getting into the loo or bathroom requires immaculate timing and the speed of movement of a pursued gazelle. And what the hell do they do in there? No bodily function I know of can possibly take the amount of time they spend on the throne. And why is it they need more cosmetics than I could use in a decade? Hubby's almost bald and son has a grade one haircut, so how much damn shampoo do they need between them? 2. Why is it when men get behind a steering wheel, they become characters from horror movies? They race other vehicles at lights, swerve round corners until every item falls off the dashboard, drive too close to the vehicle in front with no regard for bad weather and give me whiplash every time they have to pull up sharp. I gave up driving years ago so daren't complain too much, but I always arrive home from a shopping trip with only one nerve left in tact and my belief in miracles restored by the fact I'm still alive. 3. Why is it men say they'll support you in an effort to lose weight, then fill the supermarket trolley with everything they know you shouldn't be eating? When I comment maybe biscuits and crisps aren't a good idea and I'd prefer wholemeal bread to white, I get scoffed at for being too fussy. Do they want me to be fat? Are they jealous of my results or more likely feel insecure knowing I'm succeeding in my quest to look better? 4. Why is it men have no regard for household items? They have to put sport on the television at every available opportunity be it football, cricket or tiddlywinks. If it involves balls, physical contact or competition it has to be on. Five minutes later they've left the room (for the bog I suspect) and the television is left playing to itself. According to men, stair rails are where you keep your clothes, papers belong on tables and shoes make a suitable floor covering. 5. And why is it, if I complain about any of the above I'm nagging, whinging or moaning, but if they can't get in the bathroom, are cut up on the road, can't find their socks or someone's eaten their favourite biscuit it's perfectly okay to swear, shout, stomp and blame someone else - usually me. The mysteries of men...Ill never understand them. Maybe the answers are blowing in the wind but I'm not going out in this foul weather to find out. Please God, let it be sunny tomorrow or domestic war could break out and I think I might be on the losing side. |
| Thank you all for the support and kind words regarding my rather serious and downhearted entries about my parents. I know many of you have lived with similar worries and concerns and that helps a lot. Yesterday morning at the gym I found myself worrying about whether my mum would phone during our absence. I consoled myself that should she need me urgently, my son would contact me on my mobile phone. I then realised my mobile was in my bag in the car, so obviously I'd have no chance of hearing it. I carried on, completed my exercises, enjoyed a leisurely swim and a short reward in the jacuzzi, but all the time a small niggle chewed away at my brain. When we returned to the car, the first thing I did was check my phone for any missed calls. There were thankfully none. I spent the afternoon with my parents. This morning hubby and I decided to make a short dash to a garden centre to buy some bedding plants. I always enjoy making up hanging baskets and container pots for the summer. (If we ever get one) While perusing the plants my son phoned me on my mobile to say my mum had rung. He'd missed the call as he was in the bath, but had dialled recall and got my parent's number. I immediately tried to phone her back but could get no signal. Choosing plants was difficult and not the usual pleasure as at the back of my mind, I was worrying if there was something wrong. After leaving the garden centre I managed to contact her, but she said she hadn't phoned, so either my son had got it wrong or she'd forgotten she'd called me. My money is on the second solution. After dropping off the plants at home, I spent the afternoon with my parents. Tomorrow, I'll do their shopping and drop that off at their house and on Tuesday I'll be up there again, helping them prepare for a visit from my one remaining Aunty, who will be 93 this year. Not a blood relative, but a lovely lady indeed. Now I don't object to spending time with them and elderly relatives and am prepared to help in whatever way I can, although I would like to spend more time on my own home and pursuits. But what is beginning to concern me is the anxiety that accompanies me everywhere I go, in case something happens or they need some help. To quote darylm whose comment really hit home - "Should you really put your life on hold, waiting for that moment when the telephone might ring? Should we never go out with friends? Never go on holiday? This road certainly leads to madness. It's a difficult tightrope to walk, maybe more of a slanted razor's edge. All we can do, I guess is walk carefully and find our own balance as best we can." I know I'm pretty mad already  but I know this is no way to live. Walking around with the sword of Damocles over your head isn't a pleasant way to spend time. The problem is there isn't an easy solution or a simple way of banishing very real concerns. But I will add that understanding friends and kind comments left do help a great deal. A special thank you to kelly1202 for yet another lovely sig. I hope one day to have more time to review and use it. ** Image ID #1105482 Unavailable ** |
| I think Sod and Murphy have decided to visit again. Yesterday, my friend Joy and I shopped then sat in the sunshine by the canal in Nottingham, supping wine and putting the world to rights. A welcome break from the humdrum and stresses of daily life. It's not often I get the chance to spend a day away from responsibilities and worries. Little did I know that during my absence my father had another black out and hubby was called out to deal with the problem. A case of down to earth with a bang when I returned. Hubby kindly drove him to the docs, who seemed to think dad's balance is being affected by some ear problems and syringed them. He seems okay if a little more fragile today, but it worries me after his last bout of falls put him in hospital for over a month. We are supposed to be going on holiday in three weeks and I'm now on tenterhooks in case things start getting worse on the parent front. This growing old business really isn't much fun. My mother apparently was rather perturbed that I wasn't at home yesterday. She was upset to think I wasn't going up to see her on her birthday. Thank goodness hubby pointed out to her it wasn't her birthday until today. Oh well, at least she remembered it was sometime this week so look on the bright side as Nada   so wisely advised in her blog today. I've taken her cards and presents today and I guess to reach 82 years young is an achievement in itself, even if she's not quite got the memory of an elephant these days. We celebrated by doing part of a horrible jigsaw of Winston Churchill. lol Strange how she remembers the war so well but literally can't remember what happened yesterday. I realise it's not uncommon in old age but it's all very sad. So, it's not been the best 24 hours and now my favourite and the best competitor on American Idol has gone.  I'm no expert but I think American voters have strange tastes. It's okay, you can whack me round the head. I could do with being knocked out for a day or two and the other way I know of doing that contains far too many calories. |
| The sun is shining, the day is warm and I'm feeling stressed with a capital S. I really don't know what to do about my mother. Last week she forgot to attend a routine annual doctor's appointment. No surprises there, her memory isn't what it used to be. She made a second appointment for today. Yesterday I met her to go for our weekly drink; one of the few things I know she looks forward to. She was supposed to go to her monthly book club before she met me, but misread the time again and turned up an hour too late. No surprises there either; it's happened before. She then realised she'd forgotten her library card, so couldn't take any books out either. When we got to the pub she realised she'd forgotten her purse, so I bought the drinks and we sat struggling to make conversation for an hour. I then took her to her bus stop where she realised she'd also forgotten her bus pass. I waited with her until the bus arrived but the stingy bus driver wouldn't allow her the free ride she's entitled to (I'm sure at nearly 82 she looks under pensionable age!) so I had to give her the bus fare home. The money doesn't bother me and although I'm used to her absent-mindedness, it really is concerning me as to how bad it's going to get. The last thing I said to her was 'don't forget your doctor's appointment tomorrow.' Today I dropped in after swimming and discovered...you've guessed it. She forgot her doctor's appointment. To top it off my dad has had his eye operation rescheduled and it just happens to fall during the one week holiday we've booked. We've waited and waited to go away and thought by now all the hospital stuff would be out the way. Sod or Murphy? On the way home, my ankle gave way and I went all my length again. Grazed elbows, ankles and hands and a bruised ego are hopefully the sum total of my injuries. I think I'd better take up drinking again; I never used to fall over then. I arrived home to a full sink, a full washer and several full bins. Hubby was on the golf course and my son thinks recovering from his knee operation last week a good enough excuse to ignore any jobs which may need doing. A good hour has been taken pegging out washing, emptying rubbish and washing pots. Now it's time to cook the dinner, while the men sit outside in the sunshine. Me? Feel sorry for myself? Never. You know I'm not one to complain.  What do you do when your parent is having memory problems, but finds it very difficult to admit it? What can be done anyway? I'm just left wondering how on earth we'll cope as things progressively get worse, as I'm sure they will. Sorry Nada, my positive thinking has gone AWOL today. I've told my son to shoot me if I reach that stage and he's kindly agreed providing he can shoot his father at the same time and live off the inheritance.  Sometimes you have to laugh or you'd cry. |
| Since our gorgeous sunny day at Wentworth on Saturday, the weather has changed dramatically yet again. Steely skies, damp and cold and a continuous drizzle yesterday. I guess that was officially our bit of spring but when the sunshine leaves, it takes some of the warmth from my heart too and I find myself pensive and contemplating imponderables. As I looked back at the photographs from Saturday, it struck me how very small and fleeting we students are, in comparison to the castle that housed and educated us all those years ago. It was there for hundreds of years before we were born and no doubt will be there for hundreds more when we're gone. And not for us the renovation which will restore it to its former glory and prolong it's existence. I look at those three mature ladies and wonder where the time went since we started there as teenagers. And what happened to us. I guess like everything else we've gone through many changes. Vivien the Lancashire lass, left college and started teaching infants near her home. A few years later, Kath and I were bridesmaids at her wedding. She raised two beautiful daughters and we spent many happy holidays together with our families. Years later her marriage fell apart but she now has a new partner and two lovely grandchildren. Her life has changed. Kath the Geordie from County Durham, transferred colleges before the end of the course to be nearer home, so she could care for her mother who was suffering from early dementia. Some years later, Vivien and I attended her very long Catholic wedding, both doubting it would last. It didn't. After finding a new partner, Kath spent many years trying for a family but sadly, it never happened. She'd have made a great mum. She now teaches and lives alone in York. Her life has changed. And me? I guess I'm the one who finds change the most difficult to cope with. I'm still married to the same man, I still live in the same area and despite not being fully content, making changes and disruption scares me. Vivien and Kath are still teaching and despite not receiving the pension they will receive, I'm pleased I'm not. Ironically, it was too many changes that ended my career. Between us we've been through a lot, but one thing that hasn't changed is our friendship - and for that I'm truly grateful. But I'm still left pondering how those carefree young teenagers turned into middle-aged ladies. Such is life - full of changes. Some good, some bad, some forgotten, some painful. Wise enough now to see life will continue to change and unlike the castle, there's no going back to former glories. I've checked out my last year's entry about my reunion at Wentworth Castle. A pretty similar day of sunshine, laughter and wine but something has struck me about that too. A year on and I'm thankful to the new readers and friends I've gathered, and exceedingly delighted by the deep and strengthened friendships of those who've stuck with me through the whole year. But you know, some of the commenters from then have drifted away, either visiting a lot less frequently or disappearing altogether. Such is life as I've already said, but it saddens me and I'm chastising myself for not dropping by those people and checking they're okay. Something I should try to put right. So, another college reunion done and dusted and another week on the horizon. Vivien and Kath will both be in their classrooms now and I don't envy them that. It's the usual supermarket and gym for me, so I better go and get ready. Falling out of bed and going straight to Blogville is one thing that hasn't changed and I hope it will be a long while before it does. |
| Well, the weather held out but what a shock we received when we arrived at our old college. It seems the whole area is being renovated and rather than spectacular scenery we were surrounded by scaffolding, heavy machinary and workmen. Essential I guess for the preservation of the buildings but not very picturesque. Still, here are a few photographs of our 2006 reunion at Wentworth Castle. Another day gone in a flash but a very enjoyable one and great to see old friends again. The wine was good too...hic. Will I ever learn? lol         |
| I've been making arrangements and preparing for the annual reunion tomorrow at the college I attended to train for teaching. It's been a beautiful day again but sadly the forecast is not so good for tomorrow. Still, it will be good to see all those old friends and enjoy the beauty of the surroundings. It seems only a very short time ago since last year's reunion. I remember it well as it was the first I'd attended with a digital camera and I was determined to load some photographs of the occasion into my blog. Not having downloaded any images before, I recall it took me most of the evening and many glasses of wine to achieve my goal. Not so this time. I hope to capture some of the glorious scenery of Wentworth Castle to share and remember the day in here. I'm now fairly adept at the image thing - except my portfolio isn't too far away from being full. Mainly with images, not writing may I add. But how swiftly this year has flown and how frightening that is in some respects. Still, I guess I'm just grateful I'm healthy and strong enough to attend another reunion. And glad I don't teach any longer either! |
| Felt quite a bit better yesterday so decided the girly day out was on. My son was having an operation on his knee, so I needed a distraction. So five ladies (I use the term loosely) set off on the afternoon train to Nottingham with the intention of looking for outfits to wear to Ascot in June. After tramping the shops, failing to find a thing and doing a lot of nattering and giggling we gave up and went to our favourite pub by the canal for an evening meal. We'd already started on a couple of bottles of wine when we discovered we'd arrived too late and the pub had stopped serving food. So of course we had to finish the bottles before moving on. At the next pub we ordered our meals and bought a couple more bottles of wine. The food was a long time coming, so we had to buy another couple of bottles to eat with our meals when they finally arrived. We realised we'd be too late to catch the last train by this time so decided to club together for a taxi. This gave us the excuse to stay a little longer and order a couple more bottles of wine. I think we came home in a taxi and I think I must have gone to bed because I was there when I woke up this morning. But I wished my head was on someone else's body.  It's strange really as I felt fine last night; yet more evidence it's sleep that causes hangovers not alcohol. So today I've tortured myself further by deciding to clean out the greenhouse. I used to use it a lot to grow bedding plants, but since hubby retired he's decided to take it over and the place is a filthy mess. So he spends all year creating the chaos in there, then I spend one day a year cleaning it all up. God help him if he spills one drop of compost in there tomorrow.  Anyway, it's one horrible job out the way and I apologised to all the massive spiders I disturbed as I cleaned. It's been the first lovely warm day in England this year too. Just right for the convalescing son with the swollen bandaged knee, who's been able to sit outside in the sun while his mother waits on him. Gawd, men and hangovers don't go together. Thunderstorms are forecast tomorrow - only in England could you get storms after one day of heat. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted, rather like those bottles of wine. But tonight it's back to the hot chocolate and early bed. Why are sensible things so boring? But then again I'm not sure I know the meaning of the word sensible. I do know all about hangovers though, it seems I'm still an expert despite being out of practice. |
| After three months of advocating the health benefits of dieting, low alcohol intake and working out at the gym, I seem to have come down to earth with a bang. I'm not sure what's wrong or if I'm going to develop something, but for the last three days I've felt totally weird and out of sorts. Can't put my finger on anything specific and haven't changed my regime or habits in any way, but just can't seem to get going at all. I'm not sleeping too well again and having the most bizarre and anxiety-wracked dreams. Consequently I wake up feeling exhausted instead of refreshed. My eyes feel like the proverbial two burnt holes in a blanket. I have continuous sinus problems and earache as a result, but shouldn't complain as that's mainly self-inflicted. My rotary cuff injury although improved, has never really gone away and has become more painful over the last few days. I just feel washed out and peculiar, not helped by cheerful friends who reel off all the dreadful conditions I could have. The weather doesn't help at all; I cannot believe how windy and cold it is for May or remember the last time I felt the warmth of the sun. I'd quite gladly borrow one of Nada's hot flashes right now. So all I can say is I'M A WRECK! lol My brain cannot even function to write a decent blog or leave any witty comments, never mind start any serious writing. I'm supposed to be on a girly day out tomorrow and at a college reunion on Saturday, but if things don't improve I'm not sure how I'll make either. I'm such a baby - I HATE feeling unwell and it's come as a nasty shock after feeling so well for a while. I wouldn't mind so much if I'd been partying for three days, but feeling like I've been on the binge when I've done nothing to deserve it doesn't go down too well. Good health should never be taken for granted, it's true. So nothing for it but to cave in and rest awhile. Tomorrow is another day...a much warmer and healthier one I hope. Now I need volunteers to carry me out of here on a stretcher. Okay, I admit it, I'm a WIMP. |
| Another visit from sis gone in a flash, another hangover nursed and forgotten and another mundane Sunday almost at a close. Just about managed to catch up with blogs and mail but thought I'd better attempt a little explanation for PlannerDan as requested. I commented in zwisis's blog after her entry about cliches that most people here greet each other with the phrase 'Eyupmeduck,' which apparently left Dan scratching his head. Some time back I did dedicate an entry (144) in my blog to the different ways people speak and questioned whether we'd understand each other if we actually met or spoke. I also recorded some typical Nottinghamshire phrases which look like an alien language in written form but are just taken for granted by people who live in this area. Eyupmeduck was one of them. Translation... Ey up (prounounced A Up) is the equivalent of 'hello.' Me duck - a term of endearment akin to 'my dear.' It shouldn't come as any surprise that people in my neck of the woods refer to each other as 'duck' (on a par with the U.S. hun I reckon) but I have no idea how it originated. Anyway, I hope my lesson on 'English as it's spoken in England' hasn't confused you further. It's NOT true English people sound like The Queen or Tony Blair; most English folk have very wide-ranging and broad accents of some sort; some of which I find hard to understand myself. Fascinating stuff language isn't it? I often ponder how on one small planet there are so many different languages, regional dialects and differing vocabularies. But tonight I'm ready for some kip so will say Nighty Night and to those who've just started their day...EYUPMEDUCKS. |
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