My last post was all about the treats I received on Saturday. One of those treats was a worried looking Meerkat. Now christened Manky. (don’t ask!) He has spent the last few days trying to escape via one method or another. All to no avail. I am a Mum don’t forget and as my children will quickly inform anyone who cares to listen, I have eyes in the back of my head. Here in pictures are his escape attempts and a family portrait taken as he settles in to our humble abode.
Had to make a trip to the doctor’s yesterday morning. I HAD planned to clean the flat, but …..best laid plans and all that! The reason was simple enough. The night before, when I came to lay my head down on the pillow, the room spun around and around me. I hadn’t even the excuse of drinking a few too many glasses of wine either.
When morning arrived and I tried to get up I thought I was going to have to yell at the top of my head for K to come and help me it was so bad. Either that or I was going to have to remain laid there in bed. Once upright it went away as long as I didn’t move my head too quickly or bent down to do anything.
I don’t mind housework. That is apart from one job. Ironing. If there is any other task that exists more boring, mundane or downright demoralising, then I have yet to find it. When I’m hoovering, dusting, hanging the washing out, making the beds, shopping, etc, I am moving around and at least taking in some kind of change of scenery. Ironing, you just stand there. On the same spot. Ironing.
My ex husband (who never ever picked up the iron whilst married to me) irons watching the TV. Mind you, he does most things whilst watching the TV. I suppose I could ‘lighten the load’ by doing the same. Well, I can’t read a book whilst ironing can I? How would I turn the pages over unless someone invented an ‘Ironing Book Holder?’
As usual seeing as its Tuesday, I was given my orders to go down shopping this morning. So as soon as the boss had left for day care, I grabbed my bag, checked that the bosses shopping list was in there (daren’t forget that!) grabbed my camera (in case there were any must have photo opportunities occur on my travels) and set off out the door. I said my usual ‘Locking the Door’ as I turned the key in the lock. ( this strategy to help me remember that I HAVE locked the door and save me the embarrassing and annoying return to check from half way down to town.)
I do hope that none of you are eating whilst reading this blog. If so, you had better not read the rest of it until you have finished and it has all been thoroughly digested. You see, it includes some horrible pictures of one of my feet. Yes, thankfully you don’t have to suffer the sight of both of them. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Besides which I would then loose the only two readers I have. I can just imagine that you are all wondering why I am featuring some pictures of one of my feet? Have I finally flipped? Did I drop my camera whilst snapping something fantastic and it took a snap of my foot as it fell to the floor?
I’ve no doubt that you have all heard of Sod’s Law. That famous law that tends to occur to all of us on occasions at some point or another during our lifetimes. In my case it happens more often than not, and usually involves the exact same laws occurring time and time again. Here’s the list. See if any of them regularly happen to you. All of the following I can guarantee will tend to occur to me more or less on a daily basis.
I was just thinking the other day about my very strange eating habits that kick in during the winter months. My long term readers will know that I am constantly trying to keep ‘on top’ of my weight and that I have been desperately trying to get back to some semblance of that old svelte self of my younger days.
It isn’t easy as you get older. I used to be able to eat just about anything and never put an ounce of weight on, but now, just one glance at a chocolate and I am two or three pounds heavier! Apparently part of this is our metabolism which slows down with age (or so I tell myself as I stare down in horror at the weighing scales) even exercise doesn’t seem to make any difference either or this Gran would be as skinny as a rake all the walking I do everyday and our stints at the exercise classes every week.
I had managed to get down to 10st 10 pounds before we turned the clocks back and the weight was beginning to travel in a downward direction, but as I have now realized, besides making me feel miserable winter also seems to play havoc with my eating habits as well. Despite the feeling that I don’t want anything at all to eat because I don’t feel particularly hungry, why am I constantly craving Jam Roly Poly with custard, chocolate sponge pudding with chocolate sauce or even that winter stalwart Spotted Dick with custard?
And why the sudden urge to devour several tons of chocolate and sweets? I nearly made myself ill yesterday on our return journey from shopping when I succumbed to purchasing a squidgy mallow Xmas lolly from the newsagents where we buy our lottery ticket from. It was shaped like a snowman and made of squidgy jelly and icing sugar. I ate it sat in the bus station waiting for the bus then felt really sick on the bus journey home. (serves me right of course!)
Consequently I am now back to just over 11 stone. All of two stone overweight for my height. K isn’t much help either. I have asked her to stop me from buying any sweets, chocolate, fattening foods etc, but it seems to be impossible for her to do so. She blames this on the fact that in her words, ‘Mum, I’m too soft’ (she means in nature I suppose) although I suspect the real reason is that it goes against her principal belief that eating is the sole reason for our entire existence, her firm conviction that you would immediately expire if you miss out so much as one meal, and that you should eat anything you please no matter what the outcome to your ever widening figure or your health. (She also got a Xmas lolly and a packet of Mars planets but didn’t eat hers until much later unlike her greedy Mum.)
Oh well. I suppose I am resigned to this ‘must have a stodgy pudding or else I’ll go mad’ eating frenzy during the winter months and I shall just put it down to ‘comfort eating’ Trouble is, what on earth will I resemble by the time we reach Spring? I dread to think, but until then, pass me that pudding please!
Dear readers. I think that I have come up with a pretty plausible explanation for my unrational behaviour on Saturday when I had that strange turn, and found myself in the Orange shop purchasing a new mobile phone which incidentally I didn’t really need. I have Substitution Syndrome! Yes folks you read it right the first time. Let my explain. It all fell into place today whilst I was busy cleaning the shower enclosure in the bathroom. Yes! I thought to myself. That’s it! There was another gadget that I was looking forward to getting my technogran mitts on this week, and this is the nearest thing to it!
The new gadget I was intending to buy plays music files, connects to the web with wi-fi, shows pictures., plays HD videos and plays games. Tomorrow I should have been spending the entire day with my head buried in the user manual trying everything out. Going online to download lot’s of tunes to it. Setting it up to sync with my Xbox36o. Listening to the radio on it. Watching high definition videos. Playing some games. But sadly that gadget won’t be arriving this week at the Technogran household because it’s not available to buy in this country. (yet)
So today during a flash of inspiration I have realised that on Saturday the subconscious part of my brain must have taken over and decided that I really had to have the nearest thing to it. Why, it even looks similar! It also has a touch screen, plays music. plays games, surfs the internet and is able to download more pictures tunes and videos! Of course! It’s obvious now isn’t it dear readers! And so now that there is a rational explanation for my strange behaviour on Saturday, I can rest easy that I have not finally lost all my faculties.
So now you know dear reader! That is the explanation for my totally unwarranted behaviour! I haven’t yet gone completely Gaga! This was a substitute buy! Phew thank goodness for that!
Phew! That was a close shave! I very nearly ended up making a right fool of myself tomorrow! Talk about considering myself a Geek and technologically adept, I would have never lived it down! Now that I have hopefully grabbed your attention, you must be gagging at the bit to know what on earth I am talking about, well let me explain…….
It all concerns my new mobile phone. After we had arrived home yesterday, I put it on charge as you usually do with a new phone, and didn’t really begin to take a closer look at it until later when I decided (after watching the XFactor) I would familiarise myself with some of its features by systematically working my way through the user manual and trying everything out on the phone as I did so. I set up the screens etc, personalized the ringtones as you do, sent my son a text message to try all that out, took a picture of the TV to try the camera out, etc etc, blah blah blah.
It was whilst I was doing all of this that I noticed some scratches on the screen. You couldn’t see them there all the time, they were only visible at certain angles. Still, they were there and I could feel them with my fingers. Hmm, I thought, looks like this phone has been used before! However I still continued to work my way through all of the features of the phone because even if I decide to return it to the Orange shop I would be asking for a replacement so I might as well continue to learn how everything works.
Move forward in time now to this morning. K and I are just about ready to set off shopping and because I tend to let K help me make up my mind about practically everything now that I seem to be no longer capable of making a rational decision these days and can often spend ages and ages dithering over ‘should I, shan’t I’ I asked her what I should do about the phone.
“ K I’ve found some scratches on the screen of my new phone. What do you think I should do, keep it anyway or take it back to the shop?” (me using my usual indecisive tone.)
(K in her usual bossy boots, I know the answer to everything tone.) “Oh take it back Mum! That’s what I would do!” See now why I have come to rely so much on my decisive daughter? No hesitation. No pondering. No contemplation. ( Note however that it will be Mum doing the repacking up of said mobile into box and Mum making the trek back to Halifax alone seeing as K will be in day care.) Trouble is I already have another trek to do tomorrow morning as it is, seeing as yesterday (as per usual for this household every time we happen to be out somewhere) the post office tried to deliver a parcel, and so I have to go and collect that from the post office depot which is quite a trek away. Hmm. Oh well I thought, I’ll pack it up when we return from shopping.
It’s really strange how my mind works these days with the result that I have given up completely trying to figure out how suddenly out of the blue something can occur to me that I hadn’t previously considered. As we were returning home in the taxi it must have been running through my mind about having to return the phone tomorrow when the thought popped into my head that the instruction book had mentioned a ‘protective film’ covering the screen. I suppose I was silently running through my intended conversation tomorrow morning with the staff in the Orange shop.
“When I took it out of the box to charge it, there wasn’t even that protective film covering the screen so it must have been used!” (Me providing the concrete evidence that the phone was obviously not new to whoever happened to be the unlucky staff member that I accosted after my entrance into the shop.) Then it also occurred to me that I hadn’t really closely examined or checked to see if there was any protective film covering the screen. Perhaps I’d better just check it now before packing it back in its box. You can all guess what’s coming next can’t you! I checked. Ooops! There was a film covering the screen! I pulled that off and voila! The screen is now perfect. Not a mark or scratch to be seen!
Can you just imagine what an idiot I would have looked marching into the Orange shop, demanding a replacement and accusing the staff of trying to palm me off with a used phone? Going bursting in with my ‘thunder face’ on (as my youngest son describes the look on my face whenever I am about to complain to anyone about anything) and then slithering shamefaced out of there as the staff calmly peeled off the protective film making me look like a complete and utter fool? All of them sniggering and smirking to each other as they all agreed following my departure, that I was nothing more than a batty old coot who hadn’t a clue about anything?
And I have the audacity to call myself Technogran! Idiotgran more like! Thank goodness that thought suddenly occurred to me today in the taxi or I would have never ever have lived it down.
TG The phone? I love it to bits, with or without its protective film!
Or one explanation why I’m slightly Gaga.
Here are some facts about my daughter who is Down’s Syndrome and who occupies this rather small flat with me. Everyone who meets her falls in love with her, but actually living with her 24/7 is a slightly different story to the persona that she paints to the outside world on short acquaintance, and so does go someway to explaining to my two readers why I appear to be slightly ‘round the bend’ or if you prefer, ‘three cans short of a six pack.’ Maybe I might be afforded some sympathy from you both as you read out these ten facts about my lovely daughter that otherwise were you to ‘bump into her’ in the street you would have no inkling of.
- She loves Sharks. She is fascinated by them and has been so since watching the film Jaws as a youngster. Therefore she has me scouring the internet looking for Jaws t-shirts. She already owns several thousand (slight exaggeration) I think she likes to wear them to frighten small children away who always seem fascinated by her and therefore tend to hang around her like bees to a honey pot.
- She is equally fascinated by Spiders (no t-shirts though) and despite being terrified of them, has watched Arachnophobia several thousand times. (another slight exaggeration but not by much)
- Favourite film ‘The Goonies’ made by Richard Donner and starring one of her favourite actors Sean Asten. She has watched this several thousand times. (No exaggeration) She knows off by heart every word spoken by every actor in it from the opening sequence to the end.
- She lives only for food. She thinks that she will keel over and die if she misses out one single meal. So every day consists of questions such as “What are we having for dinner?” then as we are sat eating our dinner, “What are we having for tea?” The day is then brought to a close by the inevitable “What are we having tomorrow?” as we sit down to tea.
- Because of the latter, she has taken complete charge of writing down the shopping list which contains all the food that she requires for at least the next few days. There is never anything down on the list for me. I am obviously expected to starve to death.
- She is a typical Downs in that 99% of the time she moves at a snails pace but… there are two occasions when she moves so fast that blink and you would miss it. a) When the postman arrives she is down the steps in a flash, and b) When a shopkeeper is giving you any change. Its miraculously in her pocket before you can say “Thank you!”
- She spends 99% of her time (when not watching the Goonies and/or Arachnophobia) sat muttering to herself on the toilet. Its her ‘debating’ throne, where she irons out any problems that may have bugged her during the day, or yesterday, or the day before or even last week.
- She talks to herself all the time. Now this wouldn’t be so bad in itself, I occasionally have been known to do this especially when ‘getting something off my chest’ but with K its all day, every day . I have asked her to whisper but unfortunately this ability seems to have slipped her by. She simply can’t do it, and all you can hear is a sort of ‘sphst, mmhste, mbfits , mahehset’ going on in the background. I could put my ear plugs in I suppose and try vainly to regain some sort of sanity.
- As a young girl growing up, she point blank refused to have dolls. She had a pram (which she once threatened to bring down on top of her younger brothers head when he had been teasing her for days) but she hated dolls. She wanted only Boglins. If you haven’t a clue or can’t remember what they were , they were horrid looking rubbery faces which you could put your hand inside and manipulate them into looking even more grotesque. She loved them and ended up owning every one of them.
- She refuses point blank to grow her hair long and insists on having it as short as possible at all times with the result that everyone we meet thinks she’s a male. (much to my annoyance as she is my only daughter after all, and before I had any children, I used to dream of having a Shirley Temple look alike with gorgeous long ringlets down her back.) As soon as I have departed this mortal coil, she will no doubt book an appointment and have it all shaved off.
So, does my strangeness and seemingly odd ramblings now make some sense? Can you begin to understand why I am considered to be slightly Gaga? There are other contributing factors to be taken into consideration of course, my darling daughter is just a small portion of the whole that has turned me into the gibbering wreck that I have now become. Bless her.