Thursday 24 May 2007

Silenced at last, a husband's dream come true.

 
I had my surgery early yesterday morning as a day patient.  My throat is really quite sore and my bp is causing one or two problems with movement but otherwise I'm hunkydory. 
I'm strictly forbidden to speak at all for 2 days, and then may speak for not more than 5 minutes per hour and must be close enough to put my hand on the shoulder of the person I'm speaking to.  After 5 days of that I may speak more often but never over the TV or radio or machinery, or when in the car.  The aftercare notes repeatedly say in bold font that whispering is strictly out of bounds.  My husband says if more husbands knew about this aftercare regimen they'd be queueing up to get their wives in for the op.
 
My surgeon thought that things looked okay and there's every reason to think that the biopsy will be clear of anything worrying.  I'll know in 2/3 weeks.  Fingers crossed.
 
One irritating side-effect is that I'm finding that killer rejoinders lack impact when written, especially if too-clever-for-their-own-good husbands then pretend not to be able to read the sarky scrawl  :O)))

Monday 14 May 2007

Weeding my worries away, somewhat <g>

I've been outside working hard, trying to calm down and get rid of my angst about this hospital thing and thought I'd share a few more garden pics with you. 

 I hope you like them.  I usually find that being busy, especially outside, helps me towards gaining a little balance.  This bed above is mainly a grass garden altho it doesn't look much like it at the moment.   I made this bed 4 years ago on the site of a former cowshed and it's where I've put my new cannas which will look great I hope once they come into bloom among the tall grasses.

Altho it's not visible in this pic of the ceanothus 'Blue Skies', one of those bay windows is crazy paved since the petrol strimmer caught a stone thrown up by a blasted mole. The man's coming to fix it on Wednesday, unless it rains again like on the last time he came.  I hope he's more successful than the ruddy useless molecatcher man.

White lilacs are my fave and this is a highly scented double.  I once was asked by a passing stranger if I would cut some so that they could be incorporated into a wedding bouquet for the next day.  They dropped in a pic of the bouquet a few weeks later.  It looked fab.

Altho the deep purple isn't to be sneezed at either. 

I have two laburnum, one each side of our lane gate.  They get bashed by binmen and agricultural machinery who pull into our gateway to squeeze past other traffic but every year they come up smiling.  Much under-rated trees imo.  The whole of the lawn (and pond) beneath these blossom trees looks as if there's been a wedding with blossom littering the ground after last evenings high winds. 

The absolute last of my tulips, almost gone over but still beautiful.


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A raging whimper :O(

I'm very upset.  Traumatized almost.
 
I went to my new doc a fortnight ago because my voice has been weak and wonky for months and I finally got fed up with people asking if I was poorly.  He listed a number of possible causes such as heartburn or polyps and such like and suggested I see a specialist at my local nhs hospital.  Following that I've now had a letter telling me to go in for further tests and possibly a biopsy or removal of a nodule on my vocal chords under anaesthetic a week next Thursday.  So far so ok BUT the letter says that I'll be in a mixed sex bay. 
 
Now I'm an extremely modest person and there's no way I can agree to that.  The very thought of being in a bed next to strange men makes my innards curdle, never mind the embarrassment and humiliation of those dreadful gaping hospital nighties. I just can't do it.  I'm not going to. 
The letter's in the bin.
 
Soz for the gloomy entry but I've no-one I care to load this on in real life. 
 

Wednesday 9 May 2007

Ball breaking bitch <g>

It's raining hard outside and the lanes all have streams of run-off on each side which, with no pavements makes talking the dog out more trouble than it's worth this afternoon.  So my husband decided to play soccer with her (yes, on my newly oiled parquet!!!!!!!).  Fair enough you might think. 
I thought so too until I heard him tell her she was on a warning for growling when he tried to take the ball off her.  I looked round the door just in time to see him pick up a National Garden Schemes leaflet, wave it in front of her face, and tell her she was yellow-carded.  The next moment her teeth pierced the ball and it began a deflationary hiss.  That's it, said Hub, you're red carded now, get back to the box.  Pooch looked downcast and dejectedly trundled back to her sleeping crate.
I mean, honestly.

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Tuesday 8 May 2007

Men, pah!

This morning we planned to linseed oil one of our parquet tiled sitting room floors. 
 
 Hub and dog took an extraordinarily long time on their morning walk so I made a start.  I moved out all of the furniture, 3 seater sofa, chairs, TV and cabinet, desk, this PC ,footrests, coffeee tables, lamps etc etc. 
Then I hoovered and cleaned the skirting boards. 
Then I washed the floor over and had a cup of coffee while it dried. 
Then on my hands and knees I applied the oil to each and every wooden tile and while it soaked in I hoovered and washed the kitchen floor. 
That done it was back onto my knees to rub the excess oil off and bring up a shine.  Time to put the furniture back.  Sofa, chairs, desk, PC, sidetables....  just as I was plugging the TV back in Hub appears. 
Ah, he said, all finished.  I thought I could help best by keeping out of your way.
 
Then the telephone rang.  Hub told daughter No 3 that 'we've just finished oiling the parquet'
 
So tell me, is aiming an oil-sodden cloth straight into someone's smirking fizzog really grounds for divorce?

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Sunday 6 May 2007

Slightly rattled :O)

Stuart also expounded:
 
And don’t even get me started on working parents who push their kids away into nursery from six months old - I know I risk the wrath of the many but I think our primary duty is to provide a proper home life for kids which means being there for them not fitting them into our hectic lives as we can. What’s the point in having them if you aren’t going to be parents 24/7? So what if ends can’t meet does it matter? Keepcutting back till they do meet - that’s what we did………….
 
Of course that's very easy for a man to say who kept working, kept his income, kept his place on his career ladder, kept his wife, because for most men fatherhood (like being a husband) is something which happens outside working hours.  Women on the other hand according to this view ought to give up their financial independance, give up their hard fought for foot on the career ladder, give up an independant social life, in fact give up everything which cannot be done with a whining child (or 2 or 3) in tow. 
 
If a woman who has her children in her late 20s/early 30s as most do gives up her paid employment then she'd better pray that her husband doesn't leave her when she's 50, which is currently the commonest age for divorce in the UK.  Men with 30 years continuous career advancement behind them can't find equivalent or even similar employment at 50 - or often even at 45 - so what chance does a women who, stellar tho she may have been when employed at 35, 20 years later is choosing between evening shift shelf stacking and..umm.... evening shift shelf stacking.
 
It always surprises me that men who are keen as mustard to see their daughters well educated to degree level if possible and with good jobs with career promotion prospects think it's a good idea that on the birth of the first child they should put themselves - and the grandchildren - on the list of potential welfare benefit claimants. 
 
Being a good mother is about doing all you can to ensure that your children have a bright future much more than it's about wiping noses and potty training.  Any uneducated low-aspirational teenager can do that adequately. 
Perhaps we should leave motherhood to uneducated low-aspirational teenagers then?  Well from the plummeting birthrate among Social Class A & B women, it would seem that we are doing exactly that.

Even more Unpopular Views

 

A blogging buddy has expatiated on the failings of the parents of the child abducted in Portugal:

 
Well I've been thinking about this. 
 
Initially I was a tad surprised that these tots had been left while their parents had dinner out, but it would appear that they were never more than 100yds away, could see the place where their children slept at all times, and checked up on them every 30 minutes.  Stuart asks 'would you have done that?'.  
 
I have had Felix asleep in his pram in my orchard while I've been working elsewhere in the garden, or in my polytunnel with R4 on.  I've had toddlers asleep upstairs while I've been out of sight of the house 100yds away watering my seed or vegetable beds in the late evening.  I've left children asleep in the house while I've been outside in the early hours clearing up after the birth of a foal in my paddock.  In times gone by I've left my very own Madeleine asleep in her pram in the garden while I've washed and dried my hair or painted the sitting room or spent 30 minutes answering a work-related telephone call. 
So the probability is that yes, I might have done exactly what little Madeleine McGann's parents did.
 
I could say that it's safer where I live, more remote, few strangers, few passers-by - but then wouldn't that make it easier for someone to creep in unseen?  Or are children safer where there are no crowds for danger to lurk and hide?  Would we think that in a staffed hotel where people are constantly passing by, close to a busy bistro, in a place kept within our sight at all times, that they would be safer from interference by strangers?
 
 In my opinion, these parents didn't neglect their children and to imply that their absence from the immediate environs where the children slept somehow makes them implicit by neglect of their parental duty in the abduction of their daughter is flawed. 
 
Children have been stolen away from packed youth hostel bunk rooms, from their mother's side in shopping centres, from their bedrooms and from their bedtime baths while their parents were within 12' of them.  So it would seem that if some warped individual wants to steal away a child then eventually they will succeed.
 
It sounds defeatist I know.  But to widen the point, to make absolutely sure that no child can ever be stolen away would require parents and children to be shackled to each other.  No-one can live like that and should parents try then they would be an infliction on and an affliction to their children and their children to them.  In my opinion modern children are already socially damaged by the restrictions placed on their freedom to 'play out' as we did - are we to deny them the right to be alone too?
 
Finally, I can't relate to the notion Stuart expounds that adult pursuits ought to be put aside until one's children are themselves adult.  Children are part of our lives - a very important part yes - but not the whole of it.  In my opinion people who maintain their interests and passions make better, more inspiring and more interesting parents.  Parenting isn't just about babysitting.  And life goes on when children have gone.

Wednesday 2 May 2007

Duhhh

There's something wrong with me, psychologically speaking.  For quite some time I've wanted a particular  hard to find plant and this evening I had the brainbox notion of looking for it on ebay.  Voila, there it was, and at a very good price.  I clicked to bid and at the last moment saw the delivery charge.  Wow I thought, the plant might be a good buy but the postage is kin extortionate, wot a ripoff.  So I didn't buy.  So now here I am, still wanting that plant which sometime soon I'll likely drive up to 20 miles to find.  Sometimes I wonder about myself, I really do.

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