Three Wheels on my Wagon...............

Where have I been?...............

You may well ask!

I've not really been anywhere much, as it happens.

Mainly between Car Dealerships and the Hospital. (More on the Hospital bit further down the page.)

Anyone who, like me, is on limited income and drives around in an old banger will know the fear and trepidation and that 'knot in the stomach' feeling that strikes us when we see in our diary.............

M.O.T. due on car.

The M.O.T. tester had said that he didn't think it would go through this year.

My friendly mechanic Brum, said it wouldn't go through this year.

The bangs, rattles and scraping noises told me it wouldn't go through this year.

But, as usual, my optimistic, positive attitude got the better of me.

"Oh well, chuck it and chance it. Yer never know."

I should have known better.

On my way to the mechanic, I switched on the radio.........................

First song playing was..............

"(I was lost in a) Fool's Paradise"

So I gulped and shivered.

Even though I was alone in the car, I gave that silly little nervous laugh we give when feeling foolish.

The next song on the radio was.................

"Three Wheels on my Wagon."

I groaned at the thought, remembering that lovely day last Summer..............

............when the weather was warm and sunny. I'd had a lovely lunch with my family.

I'd been driving home. I turned the steering wheel, it turned...............

Unfortunately, one of the wheels didn't!

Brum my mechanic tenderly replaced the thingummy jig on the whatsname, and I was mobile again.

So whizz forward six months to last week................

Driving the car to be tested, I felt as though I was taking a beloved pet to be put to sleep.

The car had belonged to my late partner, Liam.

Apart from his guitar, it was the only thing that I had of his.

It was a 1994 red Nissan Primera 1.6. Following Liam's death, I sold my own car, also a Primera, as his car was the better of the two.

So, now both cars have now gone to the great scrapyard in the sky.

Maybe it's a good thing. Just one more milestone telling me to keep moving forward.

(sniff, sniff)

Now to find another one......................

I could have probably managed with a smaller car. But, I do like running Mumsie and Daddio around. It's more practical to have plenty of room............Mum has a bit of difficulty as she's had trouble with her joints and has had loads of operations............

I also have to take into account that I need to have a car with a very adjustable driver's seat to accommodate my gammy legs and a dicky back............

Hey, I've just had an idea, maybe I should have got .................

an Ambulance!

On second thoughts, there'd be nowhere to sit my nodding dog!

Oh YES!

As luck would have it, after much searching, I found the perfect car......................

Yet another Nissan Primera.......................

Do you like it?

It's a bigger engine and it's the Sports version.

It's really nippy. Mumsie's had a couple of rides in it......................

she says the g-force made her face feel like this......................

Ha!Ha!Ha! Mumsie, you're priceless!

***************

On a more serious note...............

Daddio had a mild stroke on Thursday morning and was taken to hospital.

He is doing really well. The main problem was that he had problems with his left leg.

He is using a stick, but he has already recovered most of the feeling in it now.

Luckily Mum acted quickly.

The stroke has not affected his speech or thought processes.

He is in good spirits, and is flirting with all the nurses!

He is taking part in a drugs trial, and it certainly seems very effective.

We are hoping that he will be discharged on Wednesday.

Hopefully, I will be back here blogging soon with some photo's of Mum and dad's 60th Wedding Anniversary Party!

Attitude is a Little Thing That Makes a Big Difference.......

Quote by Winston Churchill

Hello my dear sweet bloggeroos, many thanks for your kind words on my previous post. Although it has been known for me to use artistic licence in my tales, (yeah, really!) the story of Mumsie and her crutch was 100% true!

Funny things do seem to happen to me more than the average human being. I don't know whether it's because my "chuckle muscle" is highly developed, or just that I'm crackers.

That's not for me to say - I'll leave that analysis to you!

Some of you know that I have Fibromyalgia Syndrome (FMS), and it's a right pain in the ar........, well actually - it's a pain everywhere!

It also affects energy levels causing fatigue. (See, you thought I was just being a lazy old so-and-so!)

Anyway, I'm wandering off the point again, aren't I? (Yes, FMS also causes 'fibro fog' a.k.a. foggy brain and fuzzy thinking. That's why my car keys sometimes end up in the fridge!)

Symptoms vary daily, so it's not always easy to do all the jobs that need doing, however...................

Two weeks ago, I was feeling quite well and my energy levels were higher than they'd been for ages.

Whooopppeeeee! I decided to redecorate my bedroom. Two of the walls were a very dark pink, much darker than they look in the picture; I found them depressing.

Here's the BEFORE pic.......

It's taking me absolutely ages - I do 20 minutes, have a rest, do another 20 minutes and so on.

The trouble is, when I'm feeling OK, I tend to forget to pace myself. I was always a very keen DIY-er, so I do get frustrated and rush to get the job done before my energy levels start to dip.

So far, after two weeks I've managed to complete JUST ONE WALL!

Pathetic, I know, but I will not let it beat me. (Even if I have to play Winston Churchill's speeches in the background to keep me motivated!)

Yesterday evening, I painted the skirting board and the fireplace. It got to 11.30pm and although I was very tired, I was determined to put the final coat of paint on, so that I can unroll the carpet back to where I should be.

OMG! When I got off up off the floor, I was so stiff, I was walking like "Galen" from Planet of the Apes!

This morning, the same as every Saturday, I was going to Mum and Dad's for the weekly family lunch.

We always have such fun - see my post from last year, Fun & Frolics at Audrey's Party here

After lunch, before I left "uphill" , (the posh part of Lincoln - I live "downhill", say no more, ahem!) I went to the parade of shops near Mum's to buy some Epsom Salts, as I'd read on the internet that they are fantastic for sore muscles.

It's one of those shops that sells everything - gardening stuff, household cleaning products, vitamins, hair care etc. (I bet there's one near you!)

ME: Do you have any Epsom Salts, please?

ASSISTANT: No, I'm sorry, we've sold out. Did you want some for the garden?

ME: Errr, no, why?

ASSISTANT: People use them in their soil to alter the acidity.

ME: Fancy, I didn't know that!

ASSISTANT: What did you want them for, then?

ME: I've been decorating, and they're supposed to be good for sore muscles.

ASSISTANT: Well, I hope you know what you're doing. A friend of mine told me to use them when I hurt my knee. They give you the sh*ts!

ME: Err, what from putting them in your bath water?

ASSISTANT: Oh my God! I took them in a glass of water. No wonder my knee still hurts.

We both giggled.

ME: I write a blog, you DO know you're going to be in it today, don't you?

ASSISTANT: (Covering her name badge) You won't put my name in will you?

ME: I might!

So Wendy.................

You're a MUPPET!

The Day Mumsie Didn't Have a Leg to Stand On!

Hello my dear Bloggeroos, today I have a lovely tale about my dear old Mumsie.

My Mum is one of those wonderful people who says something so hysterical without realising it.

Here's an example from when we we were kids getting loud at the Dinner table,

"Shut your mouths and eat your dinner!"

She is also very good at taking someone down "a peg or two"

See my previous post here The Rain In Spain Stays Mainly on the Plain

You may remember from another previous post here Anyone Who Had a Heart that a few years ago my Dad was in hospital following a triple by-pass operation.

So, I'll paint the scene............................

Daddio's operation was carried out at Leicester Hospital, approx 60 miles from where we live. There was a special B&B right next to the hospital where family members could stay, so Mum booked a room.

She booked a twin room and my sister, Mandy went with her, as, coincidentally Mumsie had also had an operation two weeks before and had had a replacement knee fitted. Mandy was there both to share the trauma of Dad's op and to be of practical help to Mum who was still on crutches.

The evening I went over from Lincoln to visit Dad following his op. it was chucking it down with rain.

I bumped into Mandy and Mum in the Car Park and the three of us walked into the Hospital arm in arm, trying to keep hold of Mumsie. Mandy and me were nervous of her falling over, as she was trying to be clever and manage on only ONE crutch.

Mindful of the fact that the highly polished floors could be slippery, Mandy said to Mum, quite sternly,

"Mum, wipe your crutch on the door mat!"

Mum was furious and retorted,

"What do you think I am? A bloody terrier!"

The three of us fell about laughing. We laughed so much we were crying and every time we stopped, we started giggling again each time we looked at each other.

Dad's ward was three doors down from the entrance, the Nurse was walking by his bed and asked, "Are your family coming this evening, Charlie?"

"Of course they are - can't you hear the rowdy devils! Here they come look, Curly, Larry, and Moe."

We were still giggling when we got to the ward, and he was eager to hear what we'd been up to. We told him that we would only tell him, if he held on firmly to his stitches, which he did.

"You three!" he said. "None of you are quite right in the head!"

Laughter REALLY is the Best Medicine

I originally uploaded this post a couple of days ago, but I got a very nasty comment from someone (anonymous of course) so I took it off my page.

However, I thought it best to reflect for a couple of days before deciding what to do, as I was very angry and upset.

My decision is this.........it is MY blog about MY life, so whoever you are - if you want a different blog..................

WRITE YOUR OWN AND DON'T CRITICISE MINE!

Before I begin, I genuinely apologise in advance if anyone really should be offended at any perceived lack of respect for such a serious subject.

Please understand that both Liam (my late partner) and myself have had to deal with some really awful events in our lives, both physically and emotionally.

One thing we always had in common was that we invariably resorted to humour as a way of coping with situations that would have otherwise been unbearable.

Some people resort to alcohol, some to drugs, some to other coping mechanisms. We used humour and the power of laughter.

To give an example of how our sometimes black sense of humour, helped us to cope and try to stand back from some things that happen in life, I will tell the following stories........

On the day Liam was to attend his first round of chemotherapy, of all the things he could have worried about, he couldn't decide what to wear.

He almost always wore a sweatshirt or t-shirt. It was a cool day, and as the nursing staff may have needed access to his veins, he finally decided to wear a long sleeved shirt with button cuffs.

"How do I look?" he asked.

I really couldn't have had my brain in gear when I replied, "Drop dead gorgeous!"

As soon as the words were out of my mouth - I wished I cut have cut out my tongue.

Realising the irony in my statement, he looked at me with mock sadness, exaggerating a pouty bottom lip and asked,

"Can I just be 'gorgeous' instead?"

We both fell about laughing!

In the car on the way there, I tried to apologise for being so insensitive.

He just smiled and said, "Don't worry about it, Swamp. It was really funny! I thought you were getting me back for when it was your turn at the Cancer Clinic a couple of years back."

We both started giggling at the memory of it........................

Over the years I have had four lumps in my right breast. None of them were anything sinister, thank goodness.

Obviously, whenever I find one, I go straight to the GPs, followed swiftly by an appointment with the Oncologist. (Three cheers for the National Health Service!)

I had an appointment at the Breast Clinic, (thinly disguised as a portacabin.) Never having been married, Liam wasn't very good at this sort of thing, but under protest he accompanied me.

When we arrived there, I could see that it really unnerved him. He'd not been prepared for seeing some very poorly ladies, some wearing headscarves, waiting for their check-ups.

He looked so uncomfortable, bless him, I began to wish that I'd not pressured him into coming with me.

We both tried to distract ourselves, pretending we were reading magazines. A nurse came out to the Waiting Room carrying one of those huge thermos flasks that dispense hot water, along with tea, coffee, milk, sugar and a plate of biscuits.

"I'm sorry we're running so late, please help yourselves." she announced.

Liam looked relieved, now he had something to do,

"D'you want a cup, Swamp? I'm having one."

"Yes please." I replied.

He made two cups of coffee and brought them back to our seat.

Drinking his coffee, he was smiling, trying very hard to stifle a laugh.

"Come on, out with it!" I said. "Something's tickled your chuckle muscle."

He whispered in my ear, "For a minute, I couldn't remember how much sugar you take. What a good job I didn't ask.......................................

'One lump or two?"

Oh, How I miss that NAUGHTY man!

I welcome your comments, even Mrs Anonymous. But I'm not removing this post and sorry if I offend.

Anyone Who Had a Heart............

photograph courtesy of Lincolnshire Publishing

Do you know my Daddio is Famous?

(Well, he is round these parts!)

As the end of February fast approaches, I wanted to remind my dear bloggeroos that it is National Heart Month.

I don't know if you are familiar with the British Heart Foundation,

but they do a wonderful job.

When my Dad was 76 he had to have a Triple Bypass

operation on his heart.

Very scarey stuff!

Luckily all turned out well, but it was touch and go for a while.

When Dad had his 80th Birthday coming up in 2008, he decided that we would have a party.

Not just ANY party, the full works, a proper venue, finger buffet, and most importantly of all.................

a Disco.

We invited all the family - uncles, aunts, cousins, nephews and nieces. Also invited were my ex-husband and his wife, and my sister's ex- hubby and his girlfriend.

Exes are still classed as part of the family, which is nice.

Dad decided that if people wanted to give a present, he would ask for a donation from them instead.

He raised £693

The best part for him though was having his picture in the Lincolnshire Echo.

Daddio's name is Charles, so we decided that all the females in the family would wear a sash saying

"CHARLIE'S ANGEL"

but for copyright reasons this wasn't possible

so instead, we had

1st Angel (Mumsie)

2nd Angel (Me)

3rd Angel (My sister)

and so on........................

We hid in the back room and the DJ got Daddio up to the front and then played

"Here come the Girls" (the song from the Boots' advert) We all strolled in.

Who's the bossy one looking down the line, checking that everyone's standing up straight?

Errrrrrr...................that'll me then!

Here's the nine of us, Hollie wouldn't wear her sash!

Not a particularly good pic, but my Dad thought it was great.

Especially when we gave out a 10th sash to Janet, a family friend who Dad calls his girlfriend.

He had the first dance with Mumsie

Janet had to wait for her turn!

The evening was a success and we enjoyed it no end.

At such events, at the end of the evening,

we always have a family dance/ singalong

to Elvis Presley's "The Wonder of You"

Who's that gobby lass?

Errrrr.......that'll be me!

When we all went to usual Family lunch last Saturday - we had to take him up and book the venue again.

It's Mum and Dad's 60th wedding anniversary later this year.

It's my job to book the Disco, apparently.

OMG I feel really rough!

This is NOT a picture of me. But it'll give you an idea how rough I'm feeling.

I never catch a cold usually, but I fear that I'm suffering from the "Gormy Ruttles." (Before you hit googlesearch, this is the name we use in our family when suffering from any illness of unknown origin.)

I suspect my body is reacting to the new hairdo. I won't post a pic til my nose stops running. Errrrrhew!

Most of my life I have had long hair, but just for a change, I've had it cut really short.

I feel naked.

My family all love it, and say I look like this.........

But I really feel like this................

I'll continue my Billy Fury story when I'm feeling better.

What do you think of the male nurse they've sent me?