Is it me?

I was upstairs when B shouted me.

B:  ‘Can you come here for a minute?’

Me:  ‘I’ve got no pants on.  I was going to have a shower.’ – Look, I still say shower since it does involve the shower but it is more of a hose down at present

B:  ‘Well can you put some on and come down.’

Thinking he wanted to show me something outside that would disappear unless I saw it at that exact moment and trusting it didn’t involve a neighbour standing in the kitchen I wandered downstairs without my trousers on – I had my knickers on and my cardigan was quite long.

I arrived in the kitchen to find B with a stern expression on his face and his arms folded across his chest.

B:  ‘Look at this.  I opened the box and the first three were like this…’

B:  ‘I haven’t got the receipt but it says Wilko on the box.  They were only £1.59 (ish) but I feel like taking them back.  They open on Sundays.’

Now I think he both expected and wanted me to say ‘It’s not really worth the hassle is it’ but considering I’d had to come downstairs and was standing trouser-less, but socked,  in the kitchen I said

‘Yes, but its the principle.  I think you should take them back.’

B punished me for being bad

He made me watch The Jeremy Kyle show while we ate our lunch!  How barbaric is that?  For those of you not familiar with this high brow presentation it’s kinda like a low brow version of Jerry Springer.  Seriously the people that appear on the show are so, um well, rough is probably the politest way of putting it.  And what makes it worse is that this applies to ALL the guests, not just the ones who are having their baby DNA matched to the 10th possible father but everyone.  There was a show a few weeks back that was about a health issue and the parents looked as though they’d just been asking people for change outside the studio.  I could only think wardrobe was responsible for their clothes as it seemed bizarre that they should look so unkempt too.  Well either that or there is a dress policy on the application form.

Anyhoo what had I done to deserve this punishment.  It’s all the blood’s fault.  I had been feeling pretty good anyway from Tuesday but after the two units of blood yesterday I felt particularly good today.  This resulted in me doing something rash whilst B and Bud were out walking.  In the midst of getting some paper out of the loft to wrap B’s birthday presents I thought ‘I wonder if I could put the boxes of Christmas decorations away myself’, as B has been threatening to do it since well, Christmas actually.

It turned out I could, with a bit of a struggle I admit.  Now I knew B wasn’t going to be happy but I thought it would take him a while to notice they were gone since most were under my sewing table but I was only finishing putting the last box up there when the two Bs got back.  So when we sat down for our watercress sandwiches shortly after I got subjected to Jeremy Kyle and as if that wasn’t bad enough B turned over before we found out if the baby was fathered by the guy who had been on the show once before to tell his then girlfriend that he had a baby with his ex-girlfriend, yes the same baby that his ex-girlfriend was now saying had a 50/50 chance of being his.

Needless to say I won’t be doing it again this year, I couldn’t take another episode.  Although I’ll be safe for the next few weeks.  We got a phone call at six this evening, when I thought I was safe for the day, informing me that there was a bed available at the Royal and I should go in at lunchtime tomorrow.  It’s a good job I’ve only one thing left to do on my list plus it’ll give my back a chance to get out today’s exertion.

…and me boots are heavy!

I don’t know what happened with last week it was an odd one.

It rained – a LOT.  I put off doing loads of things.  Monday was okay, I picked up my prescription, I phoned the Royal about a sick note, I put some things off but thought I can do these on Wednesday.  I went to yoga on Tuesday, came home had a shower and put my jim jams on at three thirty in the afternoon as outside clothes needed ironing.  I should have seen the signs then but then I rallied later as a friend was calling round in the evening and after tea I felt suitably perked up to iron some clothes and when she arrived we took Bud for another walk.  I also put the central heating on – I mean it’s August.

Wednesday – it rained!  B suggested I stay in and watch a film rather than venture out in the car as it was wet and there were nearby roadworks which were causing a lot of delays or an extremely extended journey to avoid them… and I did!  Bud got a tiny stroll through the wood opposite and then I watched two and a half films (Shrek Forever After, Horsemen of the Apocalypse and Pandorum) and crocheted square after Share a Square square.  Bud did get a walk later on.  And yet again we had the  heating on from 17:00.  It wasn’t so much cold as damp.  And when our internet blew a big raspberry at me I couldn’t be bothered to so much as threaten to poke it with a knitting needle.

Thursday was a somewhat better day but I still couldn’t motivate myself to get things done and hey I still had Friday morning  to catch up with things and that would be ideal as I had the incentive of getting them finished before B got up.

We also had salad for tea every night.  I don’t mind it but B loves it and is going through a tuna salad phase.  I can take or leave tuna and honestly prefer to leave it.  I insisted on feta salad one night but otherwise took the path of least resistance as I couldn’t think of anything easier.

Friday – I awoke to a mild headache but experienced no leg pain for the first time in weeks when I took Bud for a walk.  This hasn’t been anything major just niggling at some points – other than having to stop twice going up stairs one day – B was behind me so I didn’t get away with it and got reminded that I had forgotten to mention this at the previous week’s hospital appointment along with forgetting to ask about a sick note.

By the time we got back from our walk I felt suitably like kakapo (my new word for kak – I’m sure you know but just in case a kakapo is actually a flightless parrot from New Zealand which appears full of character and is a suitably appropriate shade of green).  The headache had got worse and  I felt a bit sick.  So I popped another 30mg of codeine, B got up and by the time I’d made a light lunch of pain au chocolate, strawberries and blueberries I was able to take two more paracetamol , another 30mg codeine and an anti-sickness tablet.

Now I had thought it was a migraine but normally when I pile on the painkillers for them they take the edge off but nothing else.  However I felt remarkably better and finished the ironing and then cruised the internet while B hoovered.  Later on the feeling of kakapo returned but again was reduced by more medication.  I also experienced a bit of a pain in my head so obviously thought that one of the lytic lesions in my skull was kicking off.

By Saturday morning I had the good sense to take my temperature and it was a bit high.  However it dropped back down and hasn’t made a re-appearance since.  So maybe it wasn’t a migraine after all but a bit of a bug that had been hanging on me for the best part of the week and something I can put my fluctuating enthusiasm down to.

This meant that Saturday was filled up with catching up.  A trip to Tesco with the dodgy TV bought last year resulting in a long wait during which I could see B getting wound up.  He had called at his mum’s every morning on his way home from work (as he was passing to avoid the roadworks and his brother was away so it would keep her appeased).  This had resulted in his breakfast being later than usual and his sleep being all over the place.  He only got up at 17:00 on Wednesday and this also meant I felt I hadn’t seen him much.

After a few more errands on Saturday and walking Bud (me taking photos of our route winding him up more) we ended up only getting to my Auntie Ann’s at 18:30 and me feeling like the day had just gone poof!

Whilst I cruised the internet on Friday I discovered via Cassie’s blog Pinterest and was smitten.  How come I didn’t know about this before.  Well okay I had seen it dotted about on blogs but hadn’t paid it attention or rather the attention it was due.  It’s fantastic  or rather FANTASTIC!  You can pin anything on a board and easily reference it and it links you straight back to the website you saw it on!!!!!  So anyhoo I had a bit of a potter around there and later actually pinned something to one of my boards and have by now just about managed to stop calling it Pin-interest.  And there’s the issue of re-decorating which I still want to do but don’t want to start it if I can’t finish it – B doesn’t decorate – and I can’t decided where to start as in what new look to go for and Pinterest would be ideal for compiling ideas.

So, of all things, this pottering about on Pinterest kicked off a moan on Sunday as we were walking Bud.  B had caught up with his sleep so only got up after 13:00 and I had the morning to be glum.  Now this isn’t a feeling I experience often but just about sums Sunday morning up ad I’m not really a moaner, certainly not to any professional standard.  I have a friend, who I worked with at the time, who has an ‘ology in it and once suggested I give it a whirl – she then suggested I go home!

As we joined the busy-ish by-pass I started telling B about Pinterest (whether he wanted to know or not – I think we all know which that was).  This then blended into a whinge about how I really wanted to just be able to worry about paint and furnishings rather than stem cell transplants and myeloma, and as we waited on the central reservation, about how I guess I really thought (despite being prepared for a chromosome deletion) that the biggest issue from my last appointment would be discussing going back to work, etc, etc, etc, and as we reached the path on the other side and it got quieter, finished off with ‘and me boots are heavy’.  Then I started giggling hysterically at the proclamation of this minor yet more immediate  issue.

To which B said ‘What was that bit before your boots being heavy?’ which resulted in yet more giggling and B then said ‘You should have put your other shoes on.’

I obviously need way more practice in the art of moaning I mean I can’t even grasp lesson one – Make sure someone can hear you!

Change of career

When I was just a little girl I asked my mother what would I be.  Would I be pretty?  Would I be rich? Here’s what she said to me…

You’ll be a toilet attendant.’

Everywhere we went when I was little I had to go to the toilet (bathroom).  It got to the point that I was spending so much time visiting various toilets that the family decided that the perfect profession for me would be toilet attendant.  It was a standing joke and I became a tiny toilet critic readily offering my opinion when asked. 

I have obviously been to a huge number of toilets in the intervening years and I suppose one day it had to happen – I found the toilets for which I would like to be the toilet attendant.

Wedding Daze – Part Urn

If we cast our minds back a couple of weeks we arrive back in the Royal with me being told that I could go to the ball, or rather Lorna and Mike’s wedding, the day before the event.  There were a couple of things I needed to get sorted eg, train times, getting B to think it was a really good idea and something for me to wear.

The train times sorted itself with my Auntie Ann ringing soon after and printing these off to bring with her that night.

Now if push came to shove for something to wear I did have the unironed linen trousers and T-shirt that I’d travelled to the hospital in on the Friday night but I did have the whole afternoon to sort something more appropriate.  Why did I not have something to hand hanging in the wardrobe at home all ready to go I hear some of you ask.  Well that would be because I had these…

which I had intended to turn into a wearable item the previous week.  At the beginning of that week I was getting over a cold and because I needed to alter the pattern (by alter I mean make bigger) I felt I needed better powers of concentration so I’d left it to do at the end of the week little realising that getting off the settee to go to the toilet would be a major feat by that time.

I did have a lovely black and white (the theme of the wedding) in the wardrobe at home however we, the dress and I, had had a difference of opinion regarding one of us apparently no longer being a size 12, so I needed a new dress.

Now don’t be thinking I had put all my eggs in the self made basket I had identified my back up dress in the local Wallis store.  Black with big white polka dots, sleeveless and with a gathered belt effect under the bustline.  However I needed to get said dress from Wallis to me.

I could have phoned B and asked him to go get one.  I could have if I wanted to risk my blood pressure causing the machine to implode ie,

Me:  ‘Can I have some wool.’

B:  ‘Where is it?’

Me:  ‘It’s in my sewing room, in the small shelf unit on the left hand side.  There’s four openings, it’s in the bottom right box.  I think it’s blue.’

B:  ‘It’s red.’

Me:  ‘It’s in that one anyway.’

B: ‘This bag in the RED box not the blue one.’

Me: ‘Yes.’

B: ‘The whole bag?’

You get the idea.  This conversation happening over a mobile phone with B in the middle of Wallis – I didn’t think so.

Now the ideal nearest friend, who would have come back with matching accessories, was currently the furthest away on holiday.  So I decided to trouble my sister in law, who when I asked for a favour said ‘Anything, as long as it doesn’t involve the car.’  When I said it did and what I wanted Gill volunteered my eldest nephew, who is 19!  Neil was going to town for some stuff from the Saints shop – the local rugby league football team – and would be more than happy to call at the local Wallis – women’s clothes shop for me a frock. Neil gave me a bell and informed me he was no Gok Wan but he was happy to give it a go.  I informed him he was more Gok Wan that his Uncle B which he conceded was indeed correct.  So off he went with a description of the dress and its location in the shop two weeks before.

Tomorrow Wedding Daze – Part Deux…

International (Bird) Rescue

Quite a few weeks ago when the weather was hot (kinda like yesterday but definitely not today when I put the heating on and am only just contemplating taking Bud out as it’s been wet all day) Buddy and I were out on our walk.  

I readily admit bird identification (certainly feathered ones) is not my forte but previously I had seen a brightly coloured bird flitting across the path we take and on this day I saw another one.  There it was just sitting at the side of the lane about a foot and a half from being hidden under the hedge.  Now I know enough about birds that if you find one a young one seemingly stranded you should generally leave well alone and, after having an experience with a young pheasant several weeks before, this is exactly what I did.

Bud has a thing about chasing pheasants as they flee from us making that funny pheasant noise.  He doesn’t bother about ducks and isn’t offended by their quacking and has walked past partridges but let him see a pheasant fleeing the3 scene and there’s no distracting him from his task.  On the day of the young pheasant incident we rounded the corner of our road and there it was sitting on the pavement as clear as day.  When it made no attempt to move as we walked past, despite Bud straining at the lead and whining, I assumed it was injured so I popped Bud into the garage and went back for another gander – okay it would have been funnier if we were talking geese.

There it was strutting along the pavement in a completely uninjured manner and as soon as it saw me it sat down again.  The penny dropped, me being smarter than the average pheasant, although that’s not saying much as they on average seem to be dumber than plants, it was hiding when it sat down despite there being no vegetation to shield it from view.  I left it alone and when I checked a minute later it had disappeared properly.

So back to the tiny brightly colour bird.  When we approached the spot again about 20 minutes later Bud apparently walked along a course that took him right over where the bird had been so I thought it must have flown off.  However as I got closer there it was – Bud had obliviously walked right over the bird somehow managing not to give it an inadvertent kick.  

It had dawned on me, since there are sometimes magpies nearby, that the best place for the little bird was under the hedge so it could at least be hidden from aerial predators – apparently we have a buzzard locally too – again I can’t confirm or deny this it took me years to spot the woodpecker the neighbours kept mentioning.

I approached it from behind and as I reached out with my hands to scoop it up I noticed something under it’s eye near its neck – it was a spot of blood.  Since I’d been severely neutropenic the week before I thought bare hands weren’t such a good idea – and indeed may not have been without the blood being visible.

I rooted a poop scoop bag out of my pocket, arranged it so that it covered sufficient area of my hands, bent down slowly and leaned forward slightly, all whilst holding my breath, to carry out my good deed for the day and provide this tiny little creature with a better chance of survival and as I reached out with my hands and was mere two inches away… the little bugger flew off!

1st of June

Way back at the beginning of the year I committed, even though no one promised me a decorative gourd or even a carved radish, to blog every day.  As we all know this didn’t happen – what can I say, no excuses, it was obviously a case of severe cba!*  So in an effort to shake off the cba’s let’s give it a go for June, this June that is, starting today.

I have finished the cross part of my stitchin’ – Spring Queen.  Here she is before the back stitch highlighting…

Okay a little frightening.  And her she is after…

One of the things I like about Mirabilla designs is that there isn’t much back stitching, there is however a fair amount of beading.  She’s currently drying on a radiator before being beaded.

Now I can’t dally I have to go and check the powder drawer in the washing machine as B has just used it.  A couple of friends are calling round tonight and one of them texted this morning to ask if it was okay if she brought some washing (as her machine is broken).  I texted back ‘No worries’, then got out of bed and before even getting breakfast put the powder drawer in a bucket of hot water.  Now I’m not blaming B, who puts the majority of the washing in the washer, I’m just pointing out that washing is his responsibility and fortunately the washer is in the garage so there’s no chance of anything crawling into the food chain from there.  If Pat had seen the state of said drawer Bud would no longer have been the scariest thing in our house to her, she’d have taken her washing and beaten it against a stone in the little stream through the wood.  I would have been well and truly off her Christmas card list.  After  boiling water, Star Drops, a toothbrush and even a touch of bleach the drawer is acceptable for polite company.

Let’s get to the point

When pondering a big decision isn’t aided by knitting a tea cosy what’s the next logical step?  Well it would appear it’s to do something that has crossed my mind several times since getting the material for the bedroom curtains (which I still haven’t finished).  Having three slightly cream walls and a very, very, very slight shade of brown on the fourth it did cross my mind that the white bed linen I’d bought previously would go well with the curtains but neither would complement the emulsion.  So on Thursday I suggested to B that we redecorate the whole house.  Now I anticipated some sort of protest, to be honest I anticipated a significant amount of protest and the response I got was…

‘That would mean covering up the things (stencilled squares and diamonds) you put on the walls.  Would you not mind?’

Just when you think you know your husband he pulls a stunt like that!

Bearing in mind that I did all the decorating previously, well not wallpapering – I tired that twice, the dislike was mutual.  I moved all the furniture and made the soft furnishings, the only involvement B had was taking me to and from the shops where he may or may not be involved in making a decision.  Let’s face it there’s only so many times men, well most men, can look at a selection of colours called The Maine Collection featuring shades that are so subtly different from off white as to be barely perceptible to the naked eye, before blurting out ‘They all look the same! JUST PICK ONE!’  So B’s reaction surprised me purely because he will have to be more involved this time round.

Now one of the things I’ve wanted for a long time is a new banister.  Our current one started off mahogany and became white.  One of the things B did get involved in previously was painting some ceilings – he’s 6’ 2” so he was perfect for the job.  One of the ceilings he painted was the hall/dining room.  This ceiling is over (barely) the banister.  Despite ME getting ear ache from his mother eg. ‘You must remember to cover the banister!’ ‘Yes, because I’ve never painted anything before so I would never have thought of that by myself.’  (We all know I only thought that and really said through clenched teeth ‘Yes, of course we will.’), this didn’t happen – I can only assume that I was out at the time B committed this heinous act.

And do you know how easy it is to get a deluge of nearly white but not quite paint spots off a mahogany banister – of course I’m being a tad sarcastic – it’s neigh on impossible.  So after trying various distressed looks (on the banister although I probably pulled a few faces myself) in an attempt to avoid painting it, we painted it, yes WE, because I wasn’t going to be the only one to faff about performing contortions with a paint brush all by myself.  We were both going to have to be punished for his sin.

So whilst in B&Q getting roofing felt for the shed a few weeks ago I picked up a brochure on joinery to look for a door for the cupboard under the stairs (again I have mentioned this umpteen times over the YEARS only to have B agree with me since getting Bud that it would be a good idea).  Guess what, it had a stairing section in it and not just a stairing section but a section suitable for a competent DIYer.  Well B did finish the shed roof over the Royal Wedding weekend.  Here it is…

(I actually stained the battens and then I had a rest)

Me: ‘So it says in that B&Q brochure I picked up that a competent DIYer can do some of these banisters.’

B:  ‘I don’t think so.  You’re not up to it now and I can’t do it.’

Now we saw above, just up there – go on take another look at his handiwork I’m such a proud Mrs B – that B has managed to provide our shed with a waterproof topping.  I may have said before B isn’t Mr DIY, in fact when Auntie Ann called that weekend and I said he was on the shed roof, she said ‘I’ve got to see this.’, and I am so impressed with the job he did.  As to whether B is ready to tackle a banister or not – well, you decide.  This is the inside of the shed roof…

My cross stitch had a boo boo!

Never before in my many, many years of cross stitching (over 20) have I had a mishap like yesterday.  It may be said, generally by B, that I can be clumsy and the odd little mark may have marred the cloth I’ve been working with – actually I can only think of one occasion involving a tiny bit of tea on the very fringe of the material nowhere near the area to be stitched.  However adding in our small furry family member proved to be too much for my untarnished record.

Basically Bud wanted a walk from the minute he got up, which was about 20 minutes after me.  This works out well, having a dog who likes a lie in.  Generally I get to carry out my morning ablutions without a happy waggy addition to the bathroom – generally!  When he did make it downstairs his tummy was making funny noises so we spent five minutes snuggling on the settee with the occasional look by Bud towards his middle which was holding a conversation with itself.  Now although we have a fairly big ‘garden’ for him to ‘go in’ he prefers to take care of business on his walk which resulted in me attempting to have my breakfast whilst ignoring his hints about walkies.

Finally it all proved too much and I thoughtlessly said ‘Look Bud, we’ll go out shortly, when I’ve finished my drink.’  Bud heard ‘out’ and trotted forward excitedly kicking my full glass of orange juice and soda all over the floor.  In my haste to get up I jarred my coffee cup and splashed some of that over the floor to the other side of me.

Bud, who had backed off, rushed forward to apologise in that wagging tail, ears back way that dogs have and looked all dejected when informed it would be a really good if he would sit on his mat.  He decided that as he hadn’t been bad, it was all an accident, he would take refuge on the other settee and lay there producing extra wag whenever I looked his way and gave him reassurance that he was indeed a good boy.

After ensuring Bud wasn’t going to walk orange juice through the house I went to get the kitchen roll but noticed on my re-entry of the room that my cross stitch had been juiced – arghhhhhh! Obviously I had to get my priorities right and taking into account the items affected – the floor, some cushions, one of the feet of the settee, the knitted throw on the settee, a logic puzzle book – I picked up my cross stitch and gave it a quick rinse leaving it on the draining board to well, drain.

Thus Buddy’s wait for a walk evolved from five minutes to – I don’t know how long.  After moving items out of the pool, it’s amazing how large an area a 500ml glass of liquid can cover, I wiped them down and put them in the sun coming in through the French doors to dry further. 

I went through a whole roll of paper towel (must remember to tell B not to buy such a cheap brand next time) mopping the puddle up and then had to wipe the floor down with cleaner so that we didn’t end up with a furry rug when Bud’s hairs stuck to the residue.  I even had to throw some embroidery thread away!  I did contemplate ways round it but couldn’t actually see me washing each skein and drying it off. 

So then I turned to soft furnishings – if I’m popping one throw in the wash I might as well do the other and the cushions – well if I’m doing two, I might as well do all six, and I might as well do Bud’s cover and filling whilst at it and the cover on his other duvet to make up two full loads.  So one load of washing went in whilst I undid the cushion covers.  When I made them I decided it would be a wonderful idea to sew the reindeer antler buttons (no, no animal cruelty they are from the Cairngorm Reindeer herd and were made especially for me from discarded antlers) on with cotton yarn and with knots on the backside of the cushion.  This may or may not have something to do with avoiding machining button holes.  They looked lovely but obviously meant that a big job brakes out when washing the covers with the buttons having to be cut off and then sewn back on.  I decided later in the afternoon that I might as well omit the buttons and just do cotton yarn knots as I have a sneaking suspicion that at least one of the buttons has scratched the new settee.  Fortunately they blend in with the distressed finish of the leather.

After hanging the cross stitch in the window to dry we went out for our walk.  When we got back I noticed that there was a tide mark on the linen.  After saying things like ‘Oh goodness’, etc I had to wash the whole thing and now I’m unsure if any new stitches will blend in unnoticeably.  Whilst contemplating whether to carry on with it or start again I did continue with my attempt at a patchwork crocheted blanket…

And I found another cross stitch I started a while ago…

I may finish this one first anyway, not least because I am finding the white linen much easier to work with.  Although know I’m not yet at the point of needing reading glasses as B is still relying on me to read any fine print!

Knitting and salesmen

Ohhhh, I have so nearly finished my orange knitting.  In fact I plan to unveil it tomorrow!  What will I do with my time, perhaps I will tell you how to get a good deal on your home phone package, it’s a little convoluted and you’ll need the following:

 A ridiculously expensive chair from John Lewis that arrives with a fault

 A little doggy that feels hard done to missing his walk the previous day so is full of extra energy

A friend calling round who is afraid of said little doggy so surplus energy is the last thing he needs to have

An other half who decides to play a practical joke

An exasperated (well after speaking to me he was) call centre salesman desperate to keep your custom

And look again no use of the letter in the middle of a and c.