Another day/month/year/decade Another

List? Resolution? Promise? Beginning? Intention?

I’m in that eternal internal struggle, Brain versus Body. Brain gets all over excited with ideas of new interests and thoughts of changing this, sorting that, tidying the other, bouncing about like Tigger after a double espresso, Body quietly sits, sighs and waits for a break in the babbling to go “you do remember we cannot move independently anymore” and Brain’s exuberance deflates like a balloon across a room.

My list of lists is expanding, I have a couple of big projects to work on, mainly the website Photo Album complete recreation, but before I can attempt that, I need to familiarise myself with the new html editor. It is something that is going to need dedicated hours of concentration, I will have to figure out the best between pee visits to do that. I’ve been trying to get an article published on Wikipedia, they have their own brand of coding and a complete nightmare are arbitrary opinion as to whether the subject (an independent record producer) is suitably notable and the sources cited credible!

There are a few lighter ones, some of my photo frames could do with updated photos. My female spider senses tell me I’d better order some fresh printer cartridges because Mr MuckItUp Murphy is going to meddle with my best intentions.

I’m restless, swinging between short attention spam and procrastination, probably the after effects of holiday season inactivity and that sense of ‘should be doing something’.

So, here’s a few goals.

• Finish cat blanket
• Start another cat blanket
• Familiarise html creator
• Time to do another round of back ups
• Attempt a new book

Might just keep things short.

 

2019

To say that 2019 has been an absolute horrid catastrophic year would be a cavernous understatement. Never at the beginning could I have foreseen the end, nor the hell in between.

I usually feel odd at the end of any given year. Many see it as a fresh page, the new beginning, the marker to strive forward. I just see it as another day, no different to the 31st, 17th or 4th. However, I’m not ready to let go of 2019, I don’t want to let go of what’s been lost. 2020 will be the first year without my Big Sis, and I am way far being ready for that. 2020 will be a year of more forced change and adapt as I try and find somewhere new to live and all the fraught difficulties that brings.

BFF and I are already planning some fun, hopefully when she visits we will over night in the city and revisit some old haunts and enjoy some reminiscent foods. I’ll still be crocheting blankets when the strive strikes. There are online projects to get stuck in to and ongoing business to fit in. I should get back to nightly reading.

Still, it will be what it will be and hopefully we are all still here by the end of it.

 

Bah Humbug and I’m okay with that

Christmas is not a spectator sport. It takes thought, planning, work, effort and getting actively involved to get stooped in the jolly spirit. Well this year it’s just not happening for me and I am perfectly okay about that.

For the past two or three years it has been harder and harder to get into the festive goings on. I witness the females around me getting ever more anxious and stressed as they try and pull together all their plans, find gifts, get them wrapped and delivered, there’s the festooning and bedecking of trees and rooms, the cards and letters, the grocery list and fretting over culinary creations. Increasingly as my physical health weakened I was unable to actively help and felt like I was adding to the to-do’ list.

TV and films portray this idyllic notion of gathering families, all smiles, full of good cheer, games are played, perfect nibbles appear, and everything is rosy and wonderful. The extended table laden with delicious delights, succulent roasts and colourful veg drizzled with shining gravy. This glamourised vision sets an impossible bench mark that many desperately try to reach or exceed.

It’s incredibly difficult to explain, because to many it seems unnatural to not get involved with the seasons traditions, but as I said, I’m okay with it. There are reports about visiting someone on their own, or those alone at Christmas, but I do not, in any way, feel like I am missing out.

On Boxing Day I will spend several hours with my very nearest and dearest, the kiddies will have loads to tell and show me and I will love hearing all about it, Neph & Niece will have delicious delights to nibble and I will enjoy the treats I never get to indulge in. And that will be more than enough.

Not everybody on their own is lonely, not everybody alone feels like they are missing out.

 

We’re gonna need a bigger box

I’m not responsible for all of these blankets, seven were stitched by my BFF when she was here in September, I have done the other fourteen. 🙀 I know! I’ve never managed to get so much done, ever! In the ten weeks since BFF was here, I thought I might get four done, possibly five by the end of the year, but never would have considered fourteen.

Now, a brief explanation. Historically I could only manage a row or three a day before it would have a consequence when it came to me being able to stand up and move, it’s the physics of holding myself in the stitching position, no longer being able to stand the restriction has become redundant. When I start a new blanket after a break from regular stitching, I can only do two rows before the aches begin across my shoulders, down my upper arms and up my neck, but each day I tried adding a row, pushing myself a bit further until I was able to stitch and rest in intervals across the whole afternoon and evenings. Before long I was digging in the wool stash again for three more balls of double knit, and I needed a carrier bag for the completed ones.

When BFF visited she sent down two boxes (think large gents trainers shoe box size) rammed with her yarn, since when they’ve been hidden behind the sofa. When Nephew was here Friday I got him to grab one and empty it into the stash suitcase, thinking I could put the blankets in the box but it’s not big enough.

My current blanket will take longer, the yarn is a lighter weight so there are far more stitches to the eighteen inch row, and there are about three rows to the inch and there are twelve inches to do. I might break my rule of only working on one at a time and start a second with thicker dk so it grows quicker.

Still, some lovely pussy cats and kittens are getting an early visit from this Santa’s helper, hopefully they’ll get new homes quickly too.

 

Tick-Tick-Boom

Right, let’s get comfy in the head’s office for a progress report ….. hmmmm

• Complete three cat blankets ✅
• Complete photo organising project ✅
• Mac back up ✅
• Add sailing blog to my website ❌
• Add photo album to website ❗️
• Send letter and photos to Aunt ✅
• Finish current book and review ✅
• Sort, weed, tidy desk and draws ✅

❗️Due to the delights of the latest Mac update, the website photo gallery is going to have to be a complete do over. Starting from scratch with eighteen years worth of accumulated archive that needs cataloguing again. That’s a three to four month job.

❌ I coulda, maybe shoulda, but just didn’t.

I might have got slightly over eager with the cat blankets but that’s another blog for another day. It felt good to get things finished and sorted but as always there are other things sneaking in to disrupt a goal. I’m trying to complete some new articles on behalf of a friend on Wikipedia, it is tedious in the extreme, the coding, citation and external references are complicated to complete, copyright free images keep getting deleted by a bot for no given reason. The articles in draft form have to be checked and approved which could take up to five months.

As for the next to-do list. Hmmm, well, let me think about that.

 

Stunned

Well, dear reader, I am somewhat stunned into disbelief, silenced and generally in a state of befuddlement.

Postie dropped an ominous brown envelope on the mat. It felt a little thick, hmm, so more than two sheets of paper, is that a good sign.

Okay, so maybe this is the letter about the face to face interview, I’ve been expecting the need for one. Is it an instruction to attend an interview somewhere miles away or maybe a face to face at my home at before-carers-arrive o’clock. Which ever it’s likely to be something that needs my input and wrangling with a call centre.

Tentatively I slit open the envelope and with a degree of trepidation I took out the sheets of folder paper and began reading. Initially I couldn’t comprehend the content, I finished my coffee and tried again. Well… well… well…….

This was not a request for extra info, nor details of a face to face interview, nor details of not meeting the criteria. It was in fact an award letter. Not just an award letter but an increased level of award letter. Not just that but an indefinite award letter. Not just that but details of back dating award to September.

😳

All that attention to detail and chasing for assessment reports and so forth was worth it. Okay so the care component only covers a quarter of the bill, but with the mobility component that bumps it to half. That should help the saving last a little longer.

Let me just go and read that again …. Incase I was projecting, nope it definitely says enhanced award.

 

Typically British Debate

Whilst cogitating the meaning of life in bed this chilled morning as I awaited my modern day Florence Nightingale to arrive, a thought drifted across my mind, settled down and grew. The nightmare pitfalls of an English Cream Tea.

There are numerous areas that are likely, in some circles, to instigate some rather heated debates.

• Which tea? Breakfast, Earl or Lady Grey, LapSang
• Is it milk first or tea first
• Is it a cream tea or afternoon tea (there is a difference, apparently)
• Is it pronounced scone (sk-own rhymes with cone) or scone (sk-on rhymes with gone)
• And the biggee, jam or cream first

Wars have started over less.

I think I’ll stick with my black coffee and sausage roll, that cannot court controversy …. hang on …… bugger.