Bactrian Conspires

Wednesday, often referred to as hump day, and I have the right ‘ump with this particular Wednesday, it’s not so much a Dromedary and much more a Bactrian of humps.

I mused this morning that today I would upgrade the OS on the iMac to the new Catalina. The timing was right, I’d time-machine backed up after the photo job was done, as well as external drive saved the valuable folders. I clicked the magic button and set it going, just one hour to download, followed by one and half hours to install and a further thirty minutes to set-up. Now that doesn’t sound so bad does it?

Just before Noon a four note trill sounded from the bedroom. Hmm, odd, that’s the sound the phone makes when you place it in the charger. Trill, weird was there a brief power cut, but everything else is working. TrillTrillTrill. Okay that’s more than a power out, it’s going crazy. TrillTrillTrillTrillTrillTrillTrillTrillTrillTrillTrillTrill non-stop and my next care visit would not be until 2:50, three hours of this four note TrillTrillTrillTrill that cannot be drowned out by music because the iMac is updating……… it’s like when the smoke alarm battery fades and you have to wait for a bod with step ladder.

After the install and set-up my computer ever so kindly informed me that some of the apps may not be supported by the upgrade. Hmm, well that all depends which ones. I perused the list and most seemed to be to do with the printer survey and compare list, all good. But oh hang on …. bummage ….. those two apps I use a lot, the one I use to write the HTML for the website and the one I use to organise and upload the photo albums to the web site. Whilst finding another HTML editor is not exactly difficult the photo albums one is, because it is essentially discarding all the work done over the past sixteen years and starting from scratch, again. Put that on the “projects” list. *sigh*

Carer came to the rescue taking the phone out of the cradle, whoohoo, bliss. We scuttle through to the kitchen to fire up the slow cooker, she went to open a draw and it wouldn’t budge ‘something’ was stopping it, I could barely get my fingers between the draw front and the work top. I teased out a plastic bag but there was something solidly jamming it, most likely the foil or cling film boxes. Grrr, between the two of us and the handle of the wooden spoon we managed to get it open, another to-do job, reorder that draw (there’s not a lot in it).

Not sure if today is the wisest day to try a new slow cooker recipe.

Is it bed time yet?

 

Fun No More (until April)

I’ve been wonderfully distracted for the past two glorious weeks, BFF has been to play, stay, I meant stay. … and this time it was greatly needed by us both. Finally after all the stress, anxiety and sorrow attached to so many happenings I could cry my heart out and get physical console. But all too soon, the suitcase is being zipped up and it’s that dreadful time to try and hold the stiff upper lip and say ttfn.

Pre arrival plans had been put in place, a few DVD’s were ordered, two mahoosive boxes had arrived with the neatest of handwriting upon them (more wool to add to the packed suitcase stash) and the dozen bottles of cherry cola added to the grocery order.

We may both be in our golden years, but you’re never too old for a PJ party, and that’s what we do. It’s not all indulgent fun, there were chores and errands done too, the dentist visit with deep deeeep clean and the annual hospital appointment with my neurologist (test results, blood pressure, heart rate all ‘normal’, never thought that word would be attached to me). I supervised while BFF cleared out, sorted, organised my kitchen cupboards (nothing last century lurking in the dark corners), general tidy up of the bathroom and lounge, the resort and reorganising my bedroom draws and I feel sorted, organised, prepared for carers and helpers, etc.

We’ve mooched up and down my High Street, been back and forth to Morrison’s for eats and treats, sat outside enjoying the sun and breeze, took an afternoon stroll along the esplanade and I, yes me, suggested a ice-cream (it was lush), we even went to the cinema to see Downton Abbey (rather good).

Mostly we snoozed, nattered, laughed, chatted, rested, and watched stuff

• Last Viceroy House
• Mad Men Season 6 and 7
• The Green Book
• Trumbo
• Edie
• A Cat Named Leonard
• Norma Rae
• Pursuit Of Happyness
• My Old Lady
• The Favourite
• Colette
• Don’t Eat The Daisies
• The Right Stuff
• Spotlight
• The Girl On The Train
• Billy Rose’s Jumbo
• Glass Bottom Boat
• Man With A Horn
• To Kill A Mockingbird

Of course the REAL prime reason for being together is a certain four legged furred charmer, known as Mickey, aka #NotMyCat, wandering in when he pleases, playing with his new toys, choosing one of the many seats to snooze upon, getting head rubs and chin scritches galore.

Three quarters of an hour ago we hugged, smiled, said “call you tomorrow”, and off she goes ……… just 199 days to go until we’re back together *fingers-crossed*

Thank you BFF for being everything I need and a heck of a lot more, words are not enough to convey all you do for me, help me, cajole me, entertain and help me.

 

The Other PostCode Lottery

With having different people visit my hovel recently I’ve found myself having very similar conversations. Firstly it’s “I didn’t know these flats were here, how long have you lived here?” (27 years) and after a brief surprised silence I add “it’s okay the Royal Mail don’t know These flats are here either”.

You see a frequent occurrence happened again and this time (again) I began an official complaint about it with Royal Mail. I had ordered some clothing from a High Street store via their online site, carefully added my postcode and ding up popped the correct address in full. On Friday last week the PostPerson ‘tried’ to deliver it, my usual Postie knows to try the door when there’s a packet and leave it on my desk, but Friday must be his day off. What made it increasingly annoying was the red card shoved through the door was discovered as my primary care person was leaving, she looked at the time and remarked “I was here at 10:40 I never heard a knock” nor had I and to add salt she added “I was in here (the lounge, window beside front door) I would have seen him”.

Hmph …. blessed redelivery needed.

I went to the redelivery web page and tapped in my postcode and hit the ‘find address’ button, annddd my address does not appear, my street does not appear, my town does not appear! According to the proper official Royal Mail my street name is really my building name, the street is the street my road joins, and my town doesn’t warrant a mention. I took screen grabs of the errors and then manually added my address. Thankfully when Postie delivered on Monday it was my usual Postie and he brought the parcel in.

Twenty Seven years and ‘still’ the Royal Mail cannot get it right with the postcode they issued to my street.

 

To-Done List

Ta-Da! I’ve only gone and, you know, made a list, checked it thrice and gone and ticked em orf when I’ve actually proper like finished the job! I know!! Who’d a thunk it.

It began on Sunday. This will make you chuckle if you know me well. Now I’ve the carers coming in four times a day it means Sunday is no different, so instead of getting up after noon of the clock, now it’s around 10am-10.30am. I ensconced myself at the desk to listen to the Archers Omnibus (because it’s middle Sunday so no Wimbledon) and began by sorting and organising the clutter strewn about, setting up a new folder filing system for care paperwork etc, getting head and desk jobs working together. I created some graphics for a Facebook Page, and set about making a to-do list of other bigger jobs.

Today was the day to tackle those. Slowly working through a transaction list of a years worth of income and expenses, producing a financial statement, generally cross checking and rechecking the Agents figures (a few inevitable anomalies). Then emailing the Agents to chivvy them up with things yet to be completed on the estate.

After that, I set about my own finances, reconciling the bank statement, checking the credit card statement, doing a bit of bean counting now I will have a carers invoice coming in (ouch!).

Add a spot of computer housework and backing up vital stuff.

Boom ….. stuff got not just done but done done.

Okay so maybe there are a couple of things I’m dragging my heels on, the crochet is behind schedule, I’ve yet to tackle the self-referral to another hospital unit who should be able to help with a power chair situation because I’ve lost all trust in my local “wheelchair services”. But if I didn’t leave something to do tomorrow what would I do 🤪

Must remember to charge the kindle, add that to the new list. Start grocery order, stock take freeze meals, get bedding changed, I’ll add those to the list. Bugger, thought I was nearly done there for a few brief moments.

As you were

 

Turn it ….

The blonde senior moments are setting in ……. 

I have night storage heater is in my lounge and bedroom as the primary source of heating. Across the years and through numerous winters I have learnt the techniques of getting the best from this style of heater.  The other day I waddled across the lounge to adjust the settings ready for a cold blast that was due to go through.  As I went to twist the output knob it stopped solid, hmmm, it’s only on number four, I do hope nowt has siezed the works.  I am not very stable when I am on my feet so concluded that maybe it was just a deterioration in my strength and balance which meant this sometimes stiff knob wouldn’t turn. I left it to cogitate awhile. I began to wonder if maybe this 26-year-old heater had finally decided to go on strike and was I looking at trying to replace the whole unit before Christmas and the bad weather.  Oh blimey, trying to find a reputable electrician and supplier, hmmm. 

When I was at my desk comfortably seated in my super duper chair I unlocked the break and wheeled myself to take a good look at the heater knobs and be in a position to use more strength. First of all I applied my eyeballs, and then tutted to myself. There is a little black dot at the end of the bar indicating where it had been turned to, I had been looking at the wrong end, the reason it wouldn’t turn any further is because it was already at full, number 9, and not where I wanted it to be.

Knob turned, heating set, disaster averted.

 

And She Shall Rise …. (Hopefully)

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Well that is the plan …. maybe.  As many regular readers may remember I have a muscle wasting disease called fascia-humeral-humeral Muscular Dystrophy, it’s slowly getting worse rendering me weaker so simple tasks become a complete nightmare, some impossible. Skills and abilities, hopes and dreams have been taken away bit by bit.

Last year I began experiencing serious issues getting stood up from my desk. Now my desk is important to me. It is my link to outside life, other than the practical chores like paying bills or shopping for groceries or gifts or writing letters and emails, it is also my coffee shop where I interact with the world through social media, forums and such. It is where I create, code, make web updates, edit photos, write book reviews and blog posts and where I listen to music as I work.  My mornings are usually spent at the desk dealing with business after that first cup of coffee.  That was the issue that made the problem, a problem, because I’d need a wee.  My ‘alternate’ route was to shuffle onto the dining chair, then scooch (technical term) across to the sofa, shift to the sofa, get up stood and trot off to the bathroom, sounds a palavar, it is when you are bursting!  So I stopped being at my desk as much or for as long, which stopped me listening to music, which stopped me spending as much time creating, which stopped me writing letters and emails to family and friends, which had me putting off jobs! projects! research etc.  I have my iPad but it’s not the same, there are things I need to do on my Mac at my desk.

It took a while to admit defeat, it took longer to try and seek an answer. I’m tired of investing hope to be disappointed, or struggling constantly for no reward.  Anyway, I sourced a company who sent their physiotherapist to come visit me and evaluate my situation.  Several hours later, after numerous getting ups to show my technique and what I hoped to achieve, he left and the next day sent me details and costs of a wizzy chair and desk.  I was hopefully, but also realistic that even when it all arrived it would take several attempts, many many failed attempts, to get stood up from my desk in a reasonably straightforward consistent manner, like I do from the bed, the loo and the sofa (the only other spots I can get up from). 

On Wednesday last week the desk, which can rise from knee height to standing working height and has preset buttons to automatically adjust to a height set to a particular millimetre, was built and installed with the new three draw unit beside it, the wizzy chair which rises up and down via a button touch, has wheelers that can be breaked, with arms that drop to be level with the seat, has a lockable swivel, as well as adjustable tilt, back rest, head rest, was wheeled in. I took a seat proudly……got comfy…..and then couldn’t get up. Okay, no prob, just need to get the feel, learn where the chair needs to be, learn and set the desk at just the right height and if not on the first go by the third it will be set. Erm, no. It ain’t happening, I ain’t progressing ….. it is annoying because I cannot sense what is going wrong, what needs to change to achieve the goal. Is it mental me expecting too much giving in too soon, menopause me with all sorts out of sorts, or MD me weakening have I left it too late.

*sigh*

Today I had my lunch at my desk, a list of got to get done jobs, played some favoured tunes to motivate and after a couple of hours tried getting up, couldn’t, so carried on getting more done, enjoying the fun of being at my desk. Then shuffled across to the sofa.

Maybe another day will work, who knows *shrug*

 

The Clutter Monkey

I’m sure there is a monkey in my hovel cluttering the place, I’m chasing him from room to room. 

Before Christmas certain ornaments are put away to make room for the festive adornment, after Chtistmas the decorations are repacked and the ornaments put back (not necessarily in the same place, it’s a Big Sis thing), and there are the Christmas gifts to be homed and nibbles to be nibbled.  This year I have new furniture coming, a desk and chair, so the old one had to be emptied, items sorted and graded as kept, to charity or ditched. Chaos ensued as the area was kept free to allow installation room, then things needed putting away.  Not straightforward as the draws are of a different dimensions.  

Finally the work station area is just about sorted, but now the ‘items’ in the bathroom seem to be growing, it’s another area that needs de-cluttering…… It should only take half an hour to resort and tidy the items (she says hopefully).

My bedside draws seem to have accumulated various items of clothing, books, bits and care (slight boo boo sustained across Christmas) on top of them, one of my wool bags got utilised and the wool needs putting in another bag. Things like that.  But I feel hemmed in by the items awaiting attention.

As soon as I get one area straight, the clutter monkey seems to have found new stuff to leave else where. He’s a little devil!