Category Archives: Daily Life

Feb 24 2014
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Daily Life

Help Wanted….

craftyFor the first time in years, I have an awful lot of time on my hands.

MS took my partner, my job and my career path away from me (don’t worry, I’m not about to throw another pity party…).

Also, after six years, I’ve finally finished studying, plus The Teenager has got to the age where he’d rather pull out his eyelashes one by one than sit with me of an evening, supping hot chocolate and watching Grand Designs repeats. Not that we ever actually did that, but you know what I mean.

So this leaves me in a rather weird position. Having no partner clears an awful lot of time. No more, ‘you choose what we’re doing tonight’, ‘no, you choose’. No more planning blissful weekends window-shopping or sitting in little cafes staring into each others eyes. Not that we ever actually did that….

Having lost my career-path job and hence my future career, I now work in a job that I don’t really take home with me, apart from gallons of mud on my boots when I’m on site and a head full of dust.

So now I am in want of a hobby, and this is where you guys come in. I need your suggestions and you all probably know me better than I know myself. First the ones I can’t do – no more knitting (numb right hand), no more sewing machine (wasn’t clever enough to master it), nothing that takes a lot of space (tiny cottage, bonkers cat). I’ve tried baking but am so tired in the evenings, the cake mix ends up on the floor and the pile of washing up makes me weep.

I’m saving up for a saxaphone, but in the meantime I’m looking for something creative. I scanned all the crafty magazines at my local newsagents this morning and my brain got too full to concentrate so I grabbed my newspaper and left.

What do you think? Something I can do at the kitchen table with the radio humming gently in the background? My current hobby involves dossing on the sofa, flicking popcorn at the telly and talking to myself. Help wanted….

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Jan 28 2014
10 Comments
Daily Life

Don’t Mention The ‘V’ Word

happy valentine's dayDuring the first week of January (when I went to stock up on Creme Eggs), I briefly thought about boycotting my local newsagent.

On leaving the store I was brutally confronted with a huge display under the banner ‘Winter Essentials’.

Alongside the de-icer, Arctic-proof gloves and those grip things you attach to your shoes, was a stand full of Valentine’s cards, plastic red roses and cheap teddies holding sateen hearts. Pah.

So having a significant other is now a Winter Essential? Double pah.

Not long after, I had an email offering me and my significant other a ‘truly romantic experience on that most romantic day of the year’ at my local gastro-pub. A glass of cheap sparkling wine on arrival, a wilted red rose for ‘the lady’ and a three course lovingly-prepared meal to ‘tingle the palate’. And all for only £42 a head. Are they having a laugh?

The evil-singleton side of me toyed with the idea of schlepping along on that most romantic of days, sitting in the bar and watching awkward couples crammed into the restaurant. But that’s a bit mean. Isn’t it?

Maybe I should launch myself back onto the dating scene? There’s a few problems with that though:

  • MS
  • I still dress like a student and don’t wear strappy heels. And I haven’t mastered the art of a sophisticated up-do.
  • I would yawn my way though dates, and not solely because my companion is regaling me with tales of his pot-holing.
  • MS
  • I still need to lose a few stone pounds.
  • MS

My friends and family are very encouraging though. ‘It’s not about the MS, it’s about you, who you are.’ ‘You have lovely eyes.’ (what they say to fat people). And my ever-adoring son, ‘Have you sent off your application for the next series of The Undateables yet?’

Well I reckon we should scrap Valentine’s Day. Let’s have a new celebration, Singleton Day. This would involve buying an M&S meal-deal for a tenner (including a bottle of wine) and scoffing/quaffing the whole lot on our own, with ‘I Will Survive’ playing on a loop in the background. We could encourage our friends to send us boxes of chocolates to help us ease the pain. Three layers of mascara would be an essential, all the better to show our tears with.

So spare a thought for us sad, lonely, slipper-wearing, talking-to-the-cat peeps. And all donations of recycled men gratefully received…..

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Jan 25 2014
8 Comments
Daily Life

I’ve Gone Over To The Mac Side…

appleThe idea of using an iphone used to fill me me with horror.

With my MS dodgy sausage fingers, the teeny-weeny keyboard would be next to useless, unless I wanted to send texts saying, ‘hmjjf keleow gdder’.

I had a Blackberry, ideal as the buttons are raised. Doing my research when it was time to upgrade, I stumbled into a phone shop. The salesperson was most unhelpful.

‘You want to stay with Blackberry? Hey guys, this lady wants a Blackberry!’ He explained in disparaging terms (not hiding his sniggers very well) that they didn’t even sell them any more, and would I want a phablet instead? Big buttons. Yeah, but a huge block of a thing I’d feel a right banana talking on.

Anyway, the boss solved the problem. He bought me an ipad mini for Christmas so I could be more productive in work (‘we can sink our stuff!’ Huh?). He gleefully told me I now had no option but to upgrade to an iphone.

Well, I was petrified. I took home the shiny new phone. The Teenager was impressed – ‘4G ready, like, mint.’ He stroked the phone reverently. He laughed at my pink stylus and warned me to buy a case pronto – ‘mum, dur, like you drop everything.’  Fair point.

A week later, I am smitten. I don’t do things by half, so I bought a book and slowly worked my way through it. Maybe I shouldn’t have face-timed the boss at 10pm last night though, just to test it out. I waved at him and admired his pyjamas.

I’ve downloaded a bunch of apps. I like most of them apart from the weight-loss one. I diligently add my weight every day and it informed me this morning that the date I would reach my desired weight would be 2023.

The keyboard is very patient with me, correcting all my typing mistakes and Siri answers all my questions. I told it the other day, ‘I love you’ and it replied ‘that’s nice. Can we get back to work now?’ I then asked it, ‘what’s better, a Blackberry or an iphone?’ The answer was, ‘Oh Stumbling, I’m all Apple, all the time.’ Me too…

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Jan 23 2014
12 Comments
Daily Life

A Life, Remembered

funeral flowersI went to a funeral today.

Regular readers will know I kept a close eye on my friend Tom. His 90th birthday would have been less than a month away.

The only person to send me a Valentine’s card in the last three years, Tom had a particularly special place in my life.

We compared ‘symptoms’ notes and medication, we talked about my M&S (his favourite shop and my least favourite illness) and he made the best cup of tea this side of the border.

After a final frantic few months when he was admitted and discharged over and over at the nearest hospital, he passed away. Peacefully, I hope.

Today was my chance to say Goodbye properly. I came with my mum and The Teenager. My mum  visited Tom when I was poorly after the Campath treatments and got to know him well. The Teenager last saw Tom on Christmas Day, when we popped in to see him.

Funerals. So often depressing and lifeless, we were blessed to have a twinkly-eyed Canon take the service. There were six of us.

But, you know what? It really didn’t matter how many people Tom had at his funeral. He was loved. Most of his contemporaries had died. This was The Teenager’s first funeral and he was moved. He sang the hymns with gusto (proud) and listened attentively to Tom’s life story.

The saddest moment had to be when the curtains closed Tom’s coffin from us. He was gone. He won’t be forgotten. But as Josephine Hart, the wonderful novelist said, we die twice. First, we die. Then we die a second time when no-one is around to mourn us.

With this in mind, we talked about legacies. What can we do in and with our lives that will leave a lasting legacy? How can we live on?

So, The Teenager is reflecting upon life and death. They are intertwined.

We toasted Tom. He lives on, because we remember him.

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Jan 21 2014
10 Comments
Daily Life

Disarmed….

the one armed banditI think I got a bit carried away with the dumper truck in work last week.

I’d been allowed out the office (my laptop at home, Jeremy Kyle and coffee on tap) and let loose on one.

The steering wheel has a funny knobbly thing on it, so I happily swung it round and round, little realising the damage it would do to my arm and wrist.

Fast forward a couple of days and I’m in agony. I’ve sprained my right arm and I am once more off work. Getting to be a bit of a habit?

The Teenager has been pressed into service like never before – laundry, getting dishes out the oven, sweeping through the house. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth, ‘I am not your servant’ (stomp stomp) being a favourite retort, with me responding, ‘Oi! I can still flick the internet off with one finger, so ner, ner, ner, ner, ner.’

Anyway, I am moping around the house feeling rather sorry for myself. Who knew arms could be so useful? There is so much I just can’t do without reaching for the painkillers and ‘ooofing’ out loud. Shampooing my hair is farcical. Driving is off-limits and holding a book to read is deadly. I feel as if I’ve been snowed-in without the ‘yay, we’re in the middle of a national crisis!’ excitement that normally follows half an inch of the white stuff.

I took the bus into town yesterday to meet friends for a sushi lunch, and try as I might, I just can’t use chopsticks left-handed. So I gave it a go with my right, wincing, and I just about managed (I was hungry – 6 plates). I’ve bought myself a tubi-grip wotsit and it helps a little. I’ve weaned myself off the strong painkillers after I started dreaming whilst awake. In short, I am Fed Up.

The upside is, I have cleaned out the ‘whatever’ drawer, compiled an Amazon wish list, caught up with all my Scandi-crime programmes on my Sky Planner and got to grips (ha!) with my ‘iPad for Complete and Utter Idiots’ book. I am now semi-fluent in Danish and Swedish and have found my can opener. Plus I have a bunch of useless apps.

I had to text in sick this morning, something I hate doing. The boss responded, ‘no worries, we’re having a lovely fry-up in the cafe’. Meh. If the promise of that won’t get me back to work, nothing will. 5:2 diet be damned..

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