Party animal

Yes, I went to a party last night and was dancing until . . . phew, 9.30. The party was in full swing when I left but I'm still snuffly so thought I'd head home.

Me and two other oddbods!

It was my second night out on the trot. On Friday evening I delivered several bags of coats to the lady working on the street with 'working girls'. I stayed for an hour or so, longer than I intended, and met some of the women.

Husband meanwhile continues to sit in darkened rooms but his vision is pretty good already. 

Buy more sugar

Has anyone watched Mr Mercedes? 

We got through the first season, gruesome and unpleasant though it was, but episode one of the second season was unbelievably slow so we gave up. 

Several new and old shows currently online should keep us occupied for a bit, but could do with some new good comedies.

I gave the scaffolders - all five of them - tea and coffee this morning but that's left us with very little milk. I've taken a carton out of the freezer but it takes time to defrost. I could go out and buy some but that would involve reversing the car out of the back gate and, as I had to move it previously, it's now in an awkward position and I don't want to be watched trying to reverse it. Is it just me who gets herself in these ridiculous states over nothing?

I'll go and see if the milk has defrosted yet.

Nearly there. Or near enough at least.

Later

Have just watched two episodes of Taking Over the Asylum, with a very young David Tennant. About a radio station in a psychiatric hospital. "We're loonies and we're proud!" We watched it when it was originally on (1994) and though very much of its time, it's very moving.

The scaffolders have left though they might be back tomorrow as they've not finished.

Need to buy sugar too with one taking three teaspoonfuls, three taking two and one taking one. That's half a sugar bowl's worth.

They're out to get me

So I was sitting quietly, in my nightie again, at my computer when the doorbell rang. No chance or option to hide this time. It was the scaffolding men. (We're having to have our roof replaced.)

Okay, fine, carry on. Back to my computer briefly then the doorbell rang again. "Could you move your car, please?"

Quick dash to pull on some clothes then moved the car around the back. Minutes pass and the doorbell rings again. "Could you move your car a bit further away from the garage, please?" (The garage roof has to be done too.)

On my way upstairs to get dressed when doorbell rings again. "Could you move your car, please?"

Yes, yes, he's just asked me.

I've finally plucked up courage to shower but made Husband check there was no-one in line of sight when I ran back from the bathroom to the bedroom.

Husband meanwhile is sitting in darkened rooms not able to see much. He managed to get through Runaway last night though so that was pleasing.

Disappointed though by the new Dawn French sitcom, Can you keep a secret?

Husband's op went so well they didn't even give him a proper patch. He had a see-through one instead so his pirate talking didn't have quite the same effect.

According to Socrates, "The unexamined life is not worth living." Discuss.

Just waiting

My doctor friend, in previous post, is a FRCEM (Fellow of the Royal College of Emergency Medicine). Passed her exams first time - which is unusual apparently, but, like I said, she's very smart. Her sister is also a doctor. They are a bright pair so I'm not sure why they are friends with me! But they are and that makes me happy.

Husband is currently in hospital. I am waiting for a phone call to say his cataract operation has been done and he can be collected. I think the box of Maltesers I have eaten was justified.

We're watching The Runaway on Netflix. It's the new Harlen Coben adaptation. Quite a complicated plot but very good, and has at least one, "I can't believe they did that," moment. Final episode and revelations tonight - assuming Husband can see enough to watch it.

Back in Zac's for breakfast this morning. About thirty meals served; numbers keep increasing. Afterwards a woman from the council offices dropped in to hand over the money she'd collected from a charity raffle she'd done in work. Nearly £600 will buy a lot of breakfasts.

Haven't moved so fast

. . . since before Christmas.

Husband was in the gym and I was in my pyjamas, drinking my second cup of tea, while scrolling on my computer when a big van drew up outside.

The roofer had phoned earlier to say he would be calling in and dropping off the scaffolding today so I thought it might be him. I was out of the study and upstairs before you could say, "Now have a good cough!"

It wasn't him but a delivery to our neighbour but at least it got me showered and dressed. I said to myself, "Right, enough of this lolly-gagging around and feeling sorry for yourself. Time to pull yourself together and do stuff."

So I changed our bed.

Then needed a long sit down.

But was awake enough to meet my amazing young friend, soon to be Consultant doctor, for ice cream this afternoon.

Polishing my halo

Husband's sorting out his computer files too so he sent me this photo this morning. 

The place we get our Christmas tree from always has a grotto, and an elf outside taking people's tickets and blowing 'snow' at them. I'd leapt into the snowfall when the little girl walked away, and I must have looked disappointed when it stopped because the elf asked if I'd like some snow. She blew it just for me!

That was before I came down with this cold. Not looking so cheery now! When I woke this morning I felt the best I'd done yet and cheered quietly, "Yay, I'm getting better." It didn't last. I've coughed all morning, I have a headache, and I'm running out of tissues.

Currently comparing notes with friend, Janet, who's had her cough since 18th December. Doesn't bode well.

But something cheered me up yesterday. I had a message from a young (early 30s) man from church saying, "You were flippin awesome in church Sunday. You inspired me."

Excuse me while I polish my halo.

I'm sparkling

"Look, I'm sparkling!"
I was standing, or rather jiggling about, in the doorway of the church hall kitchen as the sun reflected off my sequinned jumper. Then it occurred to me that the man carrying a tray full of dirty mugs waiting to come into the kitchen might not appreciate my delaying.
"Sorry!"

Another fall of snow over-night meant that there were only a few of us in church yesterday. While the main roads were clear the side roads and pavements were all lethal so many thought it wise to give it a miss. Monty, who was supposed to be speaking in the meeting was struck down by flu. (Huh, I expect he has the same as everyone else but being a man has taken to his bed and called it flu!) So on Saturday afternoon, Debbie, one of the deacons, phoned and asked if I'd be willing to speak for about five minutes on my hopes for 2026.

I said yes - of course my mouth did - and then realised I didn't have any. So I had to have a quick rethink. Basically I got it down to:
become a best-selling author - chance negligible to nil;
lose weight - chance low;
continue my pilgrimage in search of grace - chance high.

We shall see.

* * * * *

I can't remember if I've written about Microsoft 365 and the fact that, as a trustee, I could get a free copy. Husband, at my nagging, has been trying to get it sorted for ever since, with no luck. But with everything stopping working, Outlook for example, and all my storage being full, he's tried again on my new computer. Still no joy so has finally, much against his principles, agreed to us paying for 365 for me.

So I'm just getting to grips with it. Husband has shown me the post-it notes. Potentially very useful though I doubt if they'll replace my scraps of paper, likewise the To Do list. But I shall continue exploring. 

* * * * *

Boud showed us a weaving thing she made from a piece of corrugated cardboard. It reminded me that I'd saved a piece of packaging, just because it was pretty and a bit honeycomby. I will do nothing with it except maybe pack something. It does seem a shame.

It snowed!

We woke up to snow this morning!

Now before you scoff and say, "Call that snow!" yes, we do. It's rare in Swansea so even a smattering gets us excited and taking photos. Because it will probably be gone by lunchtime.

So when I was in a charity shop looking for teapots (see previous post) I couldn't help but notice they were selling paperbacks at 2 for £1. I mean, what was I supposed to do?

So far I've read Calling Mrs Christmas, a typical Christmassy story, and The Altogether Unexpected Disappearance of Atticus Craftsman, a delightful little tale with intrigue, love, eccentric characters, and a publishing house. If I tell you the review quote on the cover comes from The Lady magazine, you'll get an idea of its intended audience.

But where was I? Oh yes, still in the run-up to Christmas.

It was the church carol service on the Sunday before Christmas, taken, written, and read by members of the writing group. It went perfectly. Nothing went wrong, not even the techy bits where we had to play pre-recorded readings because the authors were away. I was so impressed. And, even better, we had very good reviews from everyone who attended and said how different it. (I think they meant that in a good way!) Oh, I didn't get a photo of me in my donkey ears. How remiss of me.

That was in the evening. I was supposed to be in prison in the morning for their carol service but Mini's flat tyre prevented that. Not a great hardship as life by then was quite busy.

Monday I got stuck in a traffic jam in a car park in Llanelli. I'd gone to meet the woman who was going to take our gifts to the working girls. It turned out we'd both got the wrong impression of the other from our email exchange. She thought I would be a stern stickler while I thought she was quite selfish. We both left our meeting with different views and will meet again soon to see what support Zac's can give her in her work.

Tuesday evening it was the Zac's carol service. A very low turn-out, I'm not sure why, but those there enjoyed the singing and the soup. I'd chosen some different readings to reflect the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecies, so it included the massacre of the innocents (killing of all boys under the age of two in the district).

Wednesday? Ah, Christmas eve. We went for a curry lunch at Daughter's, then relaxed, and before we knew it, the alarm was going off to tell me it was time to get up to go and serve breakfast in Zac's.  Then it was back home to wait for the arrival of Elder Son and family. He was doing most of the cooking: he'd 'bathed' the turkey, and prepared several side dishes. I did the roast potatoes and parsnips with maple syrup. He left cooking the sprouts until he got to us. He very carefully placed the halved sprouts, one by one, in his pan to sear.

Then served them with bacon and something else I think. Anyway, it was all delicious. He did a beetroot, carrot and swede gratin too. It was all yummy.

Then Daughter and family came around in the afternoon for present opening and tea - that nobody wanted but everybody ate. Including my famed ice cream pie aka Phil Collins' ice cream pie from my very old Food Aid cookbook.

Daughter looked at it and said, "Did you make it in the dark?" I had to explain that I didn't have a tin big enough so had to shape one out of foil, and it got a bit messy. It also took a hammer and chisel to crack the frozen base!

Boxing Day the virus that had been knocking on my door throughout December, but which I'd refused to let in - I'm too busy - took advantage of my relaxed post-Christmas state and moved in without so much as a by your leave. Since then I've been mostly stretched out on the sofa, watching television, reading, and snoozing, in between coughing and feeling very sorry for myself. I also did a lot of jigsaws.

But back to those bosoms. I remembered. Whichever bra I wear, however well-fitting, I start off with great separation but during the day my boobs move inwards, to cuddle together.