I should have stayed in bed.

 

She want’s to go to Halifax to sell some of her old DVD’s so that she can trade them for another. I’m not happy about going anywhere, but as usual I allow her to talk me into setting off to catch the bus. It’s already  beginning to spit with rain as we set off and I am sorely tempted to turn around and go back home.  Seeing as the bus is late at least we use our passes and by the time we reach town the rain is absolutely pouring down. Being ruled by the weather mood wise is one of my many Achilles heels. I can feel myself sinking into resentment and ill temper as we struggle to put the umbrella up and make our way through the puddles to the shop. She trades in her few wares but she hasn’t made enough vouchers and so I have to make up the difference by giving her money towards her longed for purchase.

As I wait outside the shop others quickly pass by clasping their umbrellas or huddled under hoods. No one is loitering, all are hurrying and scurrying past on their way to wherever they must be, dripping raincoats, scowling faces, black looks. I decide that my ordeal should be rewarded with a purchase for myself, a new pair of jeans from Bon Marche and maybe some new pyjamas, so when she emerges triumphant from the shop clutching her precious prize, we brave the wet cobbles and motor onwards and upwards to my chosen store. After finding some attractive pyjamas, we discover that they don’t have my size in my chosen jeans but hey! all is not lost as they have two pairs in stock in their Huddersfield branch! 

We decide to cock a snook at this ill fated day and continue onto Huddersfield. After all I reason to myself, it surely can’t get any worse can it? Arriving in the bus station, we see that the bus to Huddersfield is just pulling out of the stand, but he is having to wait to depart because other buses are in front of him. Looking like two demented idiots, we gesture and wave to attract the drivers attention, hoping that he will open the doors and let us on, but…… he casually ignores us and drives off.  Steam is literally coming out of my ears. We now have nine minutes to wait for the next one.  Leaving her waiting at the bus stand, I stomp off to the shop for some sweets to calm my tattered nerves and a drink for us both whilst we wait.

During the journey to Huddersfield, the rain really belts down in bucketful’s so that by the time we arrive at Huddersfield bus station, there are rivers of it running down everywhere and you have to take extra care where to walk.  Jeans finally purchased, we quickly find a cafe for some lunch and a welcome shelter from the rain. Even she looks ready to burst into tears, and nothing ever fazes her.  I feel like death. I ache from head to foot and feel so tired. As soon as we have finished our lunch, we return to the bus station for our bus home. I look around at the other people waiting for the bus at our stand. They all look so forlorn and fed up, blank dismal faces peering out from hooded raincoats which are dripping with raindrops onto the already puddled floor. We would all have been much wiser to remain this day tucked up in our warm beds, listening to the rain as it beat against our windows outside.  We should have all had more sense than to venture out on this particular day of all days seeing as it was Friday the 13th.

TG

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Off on another spending spree!

Dragged out today on some lame brained pretext that I needed (or the world might end) a new pair of grey trousers from Marks and Spencer’s by my ‘money no object’ daughter, but at least it gives me something to write about. I haven’t been feeling too well following this last chemo session, it has taken me far longer to ‘come round’ and so blogging took a back seat in the list of things to occupy my time. Sorry about that. Anyway, onto the shopping trip. As many will be aware from previous posts, although we are all led to believe that the shopping trip is entirely for my benefit, its strange how it always ends with  K arriving home with more purchases than I.

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A frosty walk along the Canal.

I’ve been on a walk this morning with Heartbeat along the canal towards Halifax. Beginning at the The Colliers Arms on Elland Road, we made our way to the canal towpath where we enjoyed a fairly long walk past the Watermill Inn at the bottom of Salterhebble Hill. After journeying under the road we then turned around and retraced our footsteps back to the Colliers Arms where we had a very enjoyable lunch before all returning home.  I didn’t take many photos, it was quite nippy so I wanted to keep my gloves on, and in addition we were walking at rather a brisk pace to keep warm.  Enjoy the photos of our walk.

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Trials and Tribulations of Health and Safety

We had to go out yesterday via our usual mode of transport namely a bus. The following post is all about our return journey but before you read it, it might be a good idea to point you to a previous post concerning the rules issued to all drivers who are unfortunate enough to have to work on our particular bus route because it will go some way to explaining the extraordinary events that enfolded during our fateful journey.  Unfortunately for my two readers,  this post will not be liberally illustrated with photos/pictures etc, as I did not have my camera with me to capture the occasion,  so you will just have to use your imagination.

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September spending spree.

Yet again I have been dragged off kicking and screaming this morning  on yet another spending spree by you know who. Using the following excuses that

a) Staff at day care were complaining that her old swimming costume was in danger of displaying  her ample bosoms for all and sundry to see PLUS  didn’t I need a new swimming costume for our break away next week AND for when we finally christen our super duper new swimming pool due to open in October?

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A foot themed day.

Yesterday turned out to be one of those days again. Analysing its contents I realised that it was for the most part, centred around feet. It began with this Granny trying her best to cut her very long toe nails. Toe nails that have during the course of her sixty six years turned from ordinary toe nails to something akin to steel.  Tried the nail cutters. No joy. Tried some scissors. They bent. Nearly went searching in desperation for a hacksaw. After resorting to using the very sharp (had horrible visions of being whisked off to hospital at this point with severed toe) kitchen scissors I somehow managed to make some headway and cut them shorter.

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