Was there a thunderstorm in the night?

I only ask as I had two brilliant ideas this morning.

Actually one was husband's of a few weeks (months) ago but I re-thought and re-named it mine. The other was all mine.

I'm not accustomed to getting brilliant ideas in the morning - or at any time - and having watched Young Frankenstein recently ...

It's entertaining but not as funny as Blazing Saddles but then again, it probably helps if you're an afficionado of Frankenstein and horror films generally.

* * * * * * * * * *

Today is the 9th anniversary of the death of Diana. As husband was away and I was too tired to be choosy, I watched two programmes last night, the first about the alleged conspiracy to murder Diana and the second, sweetly entitled, Di's Guys.

Apparently 85% of Britishers believe there was a conspiracy; that puts me and the makers of last night's programme in the minority. Perhaps that's why it was shown on More 4 or something instead of ITV1.

They had the first television interview with the Chief Police Officer investigating the accident. I can understand why he hasn't appeared before. I'm sure the French police were very thorough but his Gallic shrug and casual pooh-poohing of theories wouldn't have helped convince many people.

Di's Guys was more watchable as it was just more gossipy. Much more The Mail than The Independent.

A special day

It's Shirley's birthday and first anniversary today, so a very happy birthday and anniversary to a special lady and her equally special man.

Have a greta day, Shirley and Pete! (Be alone together! Or, if you prefer, have a great day!)

Holes where they shouldn't be

I went to see Younger Son in hospital this afternoon, after his operation, expecting to see him all sleepy and the first thing he said - snarled - was, ‘Haven’t you brought me anything to eat? I haven't eaten for 26 hours.’ I had to go and get him two baguettes and a bag of crisps.

Apparently they cut the abscess out instead of draining it so he has a big hole at the base of his spine now. He has to stay in overnight so it can be dressed in the morning. He doesn't know what happens after that but is not amused that he has to spend another night in hospital. But he did get someone to move the television so he will be able to see Neighbours.

Fed and Neighbour-ed, he'll be all right for a little while.

There is a buzzing noise in here. I don't think it's in my head as I would hear it all the time and it's only when I'm in this room. I'm not even going to try and trace it as, with my hearing as it is at the moment, it could take me all night.

An unexpected interlude

I spent yesterday evening in hospital. No, not a sudden dramatic deterioration in my ear condition but Younger Son with an abscess on the base of his spine. Or as he put it to me, 'I've got a pain in my arse.' (Which, as Alun said, is not a nice way to speak of your mother.)

He saw the GP at 4.45 pm; she sent him to Casualty (via home to get me to go with him); they admitted him to a ward where a more senior doctor would come and see him and decide what to do. At 10.00 pm a nurse suggested that I should go home as it would be some time before the doctors did their rounds.

During this time YS was remarkably cheerful in a grumbly sort of way. He was on a drip and not allowed to eat in case surgery was required so not only was he uncomfortable, he was hungry. And one thing YS does not like to be is hungry.

I pointed out to him that I had the same thing when I was eight and a half months pregnant meaning I couldn't lie on my back or my front - but he found small consolation in this.

In a well-meaning motherly way I sat next to him to try and keep him amused but he couldn't turn over and I couldn't hear so it looked as though we were rehearsing for a Two Ronnies sketch.

Things weren't helped by the man in the bed opposite. In order to wee, he needed to have a tap running. By the time he had finished, everyone in the ward had their legs crossed.

On leaving the ward I spotted a doctor who bore a remarkable resemblance to Adolf Hitler. Strangely enough I saw him again today digging up pipes for British Gas.

Younger Son went down to theatre at 12.30 pm today. Trying to find out exactly what was happening as he wasn't sure, I spoke to a young (about 15 years old) doctor who said he was on a different team and that YS was under the care of Dr Hari Krishna. At least that's what I think he said. (Have I mentioned that my hearing has not yet improved? I hope it gets better soon as I can't drive properly when I can't hear.) He (young doctor) thinks YS will be in hospital again tonight.

A bit late

This should have been posted yesterday but I've had trouble with t'internet again. I'm not sure if it's BT or us. Anyway, back to what should have been yesterday's post.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/factual/meet_the_bloggers.shtml
It's only a quarter of an hour slot but it's on for a number of weeks. Today's is the first in the series and the two bloggers featured are transport linked. But they're nowhere near as boring as that sounds.

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

Most of today, when I've been sitting at the computer, I've been muttering to myself, 'I really should go upstairs and get my glasses.' Only apathy prevented me. When I eventually did, my glasses were nowhere to be seen (even allowing for my lack of glasses).

Back downstairs I discover them ... right next to the computer.

I tried several options in that sentence. Should I use a colon? Or a dash? As you see, I settled for ellipses. Or is that an ellipse? Wait.

That should be ellipsis (singular) and it's not right. ellipsis - a figure of syntax by which a word or words are left out and merely implied (Chambers).

I wasn't leaving anything out, just putting in a gap to create an effect. I need to consult another expert. But first I will tell you that a dipchick is the same as a dabchick - the little grebe. I just noticed that in passing.

Mr Fowler confused me thoroughly but according to Lynne Truss (may her name be carved in stone), an ellipsis may also be used when the writer wants to 'trail off in an intriguing manner ...' I wasn't doing that either so I must have used the wrong punctuation. It is truly a minefield for the poorly-trained foot-soldier.

Catch up

I should be in work today but I am off with earache. My ear hurts and I'm deaf but I still feel guilty. I'm never off sick but, I suppose, because physically I could be in work, I feel I should be.

Ah, well, I shall fight the guilt and wallow. I've just had two hard-boiled eggs for lunch. Nice but not quite the same without sand to go with them.

My first weigh-in with Weightwatchers tonight. I am not expecting a good result having been out for two meals this past week and having a pudding each time. The raspberry pavlova sundae in Castellamare was awfully nice though, and the reason I didn't answer the waiter when he asked if I was enjoying it was because I was deaf not because I was too engrossed in eating it. I didn't realise I'd been spoken to until everyone - including the waiter - started laughing.

I shall do a bit of blog-calling now and catch up with commenting; it's been a busy week and I've fallen behind. That reminds me: there was a programme about bloggers on radio 4 this morning. I was still in bed and forgot it. I wonder if I can listen on the internet.

Can't help falling ...

Eight people fell off cliffs in Wales over the Bank Holiday. That seems extraordinarily careless; it's not that hard to not fall off a cliff.

They're going to set up a cliffwatch station at Rhossili; a man fell and died there yesterday. The man talking about it on the television said, 'The lookout won't stop people falling off but we will be able to get help there sooner.'

In Mumbles, where I grew up, there is a sea wall about 15' high. For a large section of it, there was no barrier to prevent people falling off. Throughout my growing-up there were few, if any, fatalities. People jumped off it, yes, but that was to get into the sea. Now there is a railing along the length of it, including the bit that has stones sticking up from it and which was such a challenge to walk along when we were young. The nanny state in action.

On the trains

Older Son and his friends went on the train this afternoon.

Poor me

I was up all night with raging earache.

Or, if you prefer, I was awake part of the night with quite bad earache. Whatever, I didn't want to spend all of Bank Holiday in pain so I phoned the out-of-hours GP service this morning.

In order to assess how bad I was, a nurse grilled me, and some of the questions she asked me were these.

Can you hear normally? (As long as I tug on my left earlobe.)

Are you confused? (No more than usual.)

Are you feeling unusually hot? (I am a woman of a certain age; how am I supposed to know what is unusually hot.)

I must have convinced her that I was in need of care because I've now seen a doctor and I have a spray - combined steroid, anti-fungal, anti-bacterial apparently - what it doesn't kill it makes very strong. However if my ear becomes more swollen, I will need to have a wick inserted. I feel like the man to whom Sir Walter Raleigh explained tobacco. 'So, you roll it up then you set fire to it, is that what you're saying, Walt?'

Aged?

Seen in the Age Concern window:

Great Deals for the Over 50s

and

Age Concern Luncheon Club - good food and great company for the over 50s.

If I'd had my walking stick with me, I'd have shaken it at them.

It must be true

It was in the newspaper.

City Councillor in Porn Probe.

Oo-er. Wonder if it's related to earlier headline.

Neath Nuns Leave Town.

Contentment

Young friend and very talented artist, Tina Watts, has given me a piece of her artwork. It's called Contentment, and she created it when she was pregnant.

I loved being pregnant. It was just the best so this piece is very relevant to me.

My new little friend

a bit more

I was driving to the gym tonight (do you like the way I casually drop that in?) when I spotted a convertible mini with the number plate X30 FUN. As I passed I couldn't resist having a peek at the driver. My first thought was that he looks less like a fun man and more like a depressed walrus. Then I thought, 'No, that's not fair. There might be any number of reasons for the apparent anomaly.'

He might be driving his wife's car and it might be the way she gets her fun that has made him so grumpy.

The number plate might have been a present from his wife and he has failed to spot the irony in the same way that he has failed to notice the divorce papers lying on the hall table.

He might really be the life and soul of the party in a Jack Dee sort of way.

Or he might just be a miserable so'n'so.

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

I signed up for Weightwatchers last night. I've used Slimming World in the past but I have Weightwatching friends and misery loves company.

One of the first things I had to do was a short quiz to determine which plan would suit me best: NoChoice or NoPoint. The first question was: do you struggle with snacking between meals or is having a large plateful your downfall? Um, yes, both.

I forgot to mention that the night before Younger Son and I had chip shop chips as a pre-diet blow-out. And they were horrid! I even left some chips and I am the one who can normally be relied upon to clear everyone else's plates of chips.

Then today, day 1 of the new diet, my uncle took me out for lunch. He asked me to go round so he could show me 'where things are'. He said, 'I've had cancer; I've got a heart problem; and I'm 80. You should know where everything is just in case.'

I pointed out to him that the thing that was likely to kill him was the gallivanting he does with any one of a number of widows. But that's the way to go.

Once we'd finished with formalities we headed off for the restaurant. I was well-intentioned. I had crab for starters - a whole shellful but just meat with a very little fruit dressing on a bit of salad - followed by warm chicken salad. I really intended not to eat the bread roll but they had warmed it specially and the butter did look awfully tasty. When she brought out the dessert menu I said, 'definitely no, thank you.' But my uncle pointed out he didn't take his only niece out for lunch often so I had to have some. I couldn't argue with that, could I? So I had bread and butter pudding. With cream.

But since lunchtime I've been good.

Got here at last

It's been a while but I've finally made space to blog. It's not that long actually but it seems ages since I've had a chance to clear out my brain.

Maryb wonders if her style of writing has changed since she started blogging; she comes to the conclusion it has, that she is now writing with an audience in mind. I've looked back at my early stuff and I don't think mine has changed particularly. I thought it had but the only difference I can see is that it's slightly saner now. I suppose I do write with an idea of the people who will read it, but I do write in my own style and it's difficult to change what comes naturally.

Anyway, enough.

Husband has been off sick for two days. I suspected flu; Shirl asked if it was real flu or man flu. I have now decided it's man flu. Have I mentioned that he is very into genealogy? He has recently discovered that an ancestor of his was Governor of the Colony of Connecticut in 1656. (Why has that reminded me of the boys who put the powder on the noses of the faces of the ladies of the harem of the court of King Caractacus? They weren't even passing by.)

As I have intimated life has been busy recently. That and trouble with t'intenet have come between me and blogging. I enjoy blogging and miss it when I can't. Somebody said, 'Isn't it a bit self-absorbed to write your thoughts and imagine people will want to read them?' (Is self-absorbed the word I am looking for?)

Yes, it is. But no-one is obliged to read them - to those of you that do, I am very grateful - and even if it were only a writing exercise it would be valid. But I think it's more than that. A rubbish-bin? Possibly. But it's my rubbish-bin.

It was a good job that the internet was playing up on Sunday, when I had a chance to blog, as it would have been a rant. A major rant. I would have started with an apology and a suggestion to readers to not read it, and then grumbled big time about people who insist on talking to me as if I am an idiot. I might not be the sharpest pencil in the case but I know what's right and what's wrong. No, no more.

Husband is keen to watch an episode of Rumpole on DVD now so I'll make a mental note (or a written note) of other things that have been on my mind to remind me next time I have a blog.

FUN mini
Weightwatchers
Lunch

So much I want to write, my brain is bubbling.

Went to a wedding today ...

in a field. Over-dressed wasn't the word.

Extremely over-dressed was more apt!

Anyway it was a lovely ceremony and it didn't rain during the important bits, when Mark and Jen made their way around the circle, exchanged rings and laid the first stones to build a cairn.

They're going to use their field to provide alternative environmental education for youngsters for whom school is not attractive.

And, yes, there are holes in Mark's jacket. Designer holes. (I think.)

An ace up her sleeve

Maverick would have turned under his hat if he'd seen us playing poker last night. But it was fun.

The results are as follows:
Carol $10,435
Andrew $7,230
Andy $5,120
Jude $4,245

Solvent (just) Mike, Janet and Wendy

Bankrupt (again) husband and me (twice after being baled out once by the bank)

And the meringues were yummy if a trifle chewy.

The faces say it all.

We made it through the night ...

but I have soggy-middled meringues. So I've put the oven back on.

And I've just remembered something.

I have one of those ovens that you can set the timer on and it will switch itself off.

The thudding noise you can hear is my head hitting the desk.

Okay so this wasn't one of my better ideas

But it seemed reasonable at the time. But, as usual (as some people would claim), I didn't think things through properly. So I'm sitting up at just past midnight waiting for meringues to cook.

I have to be in work in the morning so I don't think I can stay up much longer. I wonder what will happen if I turn the oven right right down and just leave them in there all night. Or what's left of it.

Brown meringues? Cooked to a frazzle meringues? Could meringues go on fire? I would hate for Harvs and me to be burned to a crisp just because the meringues were.

I was up early this morning too. Cleaning at 7.45. No, this isn't like me but peculiar circumtsmaces (neat spelling) demand peculiar actions.

I could leave a note for Younger Son asking him to turn off the oven when he comes in. That is probably the best idea I have had so far. But then, look at the last good idea I had.

I'll do that. And I'll tell you in the morning if we/they (Harvs and me/the meringues) survived.

Yaaaay!!

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