Things are quite good at the moment (crazy and busy, but good). My theory – the god/angel/sprite in charge of our luck was off sick or on holiday...just before they left our bad luck gauge was set on high, whoever took over forgot us (and maybe some other poor sods who were looked after in the same area). A couple of weeks ago the god/angel/sprite came back, looked at our lives/my last journal entry, and went, “oh shit.” The day I wrote the last entry, things were still pretty crappy – more slaps in the face... but slowly things have been improving - we’ve had some really good pieces of luck. We’re definitely not taking things for granted, but if our luck gauge can just be set to evens, that’d be good!
You’ll all be glad to know that we’ve not got Swine Flu, and we survived the great Earth Quake of 2009... 10 seconds or so of movement in North West England, that registered at 3.7 on the Richter Scale – big stuff...for us. It moved the Reading Room (in the library) pretty substantially, which is saying something – it’s a massive structure. I’ve never felt an earth tremor before. It was very strange, the room’s for silent work, so we all just looked around, not saying anything. I figured it may well be an earth tremor, since I couldn’t think what else would move something that big, but no one was talking, and we all went back to work – very British. Turns out it was a tremor, the centre of the quake was in the Lake District...My Supervisor thinks the gods were unhappy with the Kadampa Buddhists, since the centre of the Quake was under Ulverston – the home of the Kadampa mothership.
We tried to have a BBQ at the weekend. It was all going well - we had a few friends over, the sun was shining, the beach was nearly empty...then we heard cries for ‘Help’... Raine and I ran over, an 80 year old women had been taken off her feet by a Labrador (I’m so pissed off with the dog people, it went after Joyce’s walking stick because it thought it was something to play with... Yeah - great reason an 80 year old to end up with broken bones – they really didn’t seem to think they were at fault, the dog people). We tried to get her up, but she was screaming in agony. We called an ambulance, and they had to put her on a Spinal Board and carry her to the ambulance. She was terrified, and in immense pain. I told Raine she should go to the hospital with her – Raine’d been drinking, I hadn’t, so I could follow her up in the car. Raine stayed with her in A&E until I managed to get hold of her son. Joyce – the injured lady is a really fascinating woman. Turns out she’s a retired Methodist Minister, she prayed for us all as Raine was leaving. Her friend called us to let us know she’s doing ok (she had half her hip replaced on Sunday night), and we were told she’d like us to visit. I have to say, I would have liked not to go near the hospital again for a very long time (I went there at least once a day when my dad was in), but we went along to visit her, and it was good – she’s a brilliant woman. She was in really good spirits.
I joined the gym – well, Blackpool Council’s fitness scheme. You pay a surprisingly small monthly fee, and you can use any of the Council’s facilities, all inclusive, and attend any classes. There are 80 classes to choose from, two fitness suites, and two 25m pools. The fitness suites have just been done up, and they have the most state of the art equipment imaginable – they know who you are, and warm you up and down, and so much more. I’m on a diet too, and I’m packing in my 5+ a day. Feeling good for it all - trying to chart my moods, as well as weight and everything.
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
Thursday, 9 April 2009
A lesson in life as lemons
Lately Raine and I have been so used to shit happening we’ve referred to bad events of the day as ‘a punch in the face.’ At its peak there was at least ‘one punch in the face’ everyday, and when something bad happened we would sign and ask, ‘is that our punch in the face for the day (meaning, ‘can we get on without injury now’)?’. I strongly believe that people are more involved in determining their luck than random situations are – it’s outlook, and I’m a firm advocate of the ‘if life gives you lemons...’ school of thought. Thankfully Raine is too, so while we recognised that lady luck wasn’t exactly smiling down on us, we tried to find a silver lining (I will use every fortune metaphor possible in this blog). Not easy when fraud appears on your bank account, your dad’s had a stroke, you don’t have a home of your own, family members are losing it and dragging you down with them, University is breathing down your neck, your manic depression decides it’s time to say hello...just a few examples.
I think it’s testament to our strength (Raine says that together we are much greater than the sum of our parts, and I think she’s right) that we’ve ridden through everything. We’ve mostly laughed (slightly hysterically at times) at our fortune. Then, every time something good presents itself we’ve held it aloft and celebrated it as if England had won the World Cup.
So, those good things...well I’m not going to get pregnant. My doctor put me on the Pill, so ’the clothes I’m wearing from now on are going to take up a little less yardage.’ You can’t be too careful. Ah, it’s going to take me a while to tire of this joke...but seriously, as I said earlier, my manic depression reared its head. I’ve been watching my moods really closely since I started feeling my grip on sanity loosening, and it seemed it was largely connected to my monthly cycle, so I’ve been put on the pill. It seems to be helping, too...and such a relief knowing we won’t be hearing the pitter patter of little feet;-)
My dad’s doing great, and I mean great! When he goes out he doesn’t even take a stick anymore, and yesterday he was given the ok to drive. He just needs to have an eye test, and inform the insurance company, then he’s off - driving. This was such a distant hope when the Stroke first struck. He’s writing again (he already has one post-Stroke play under his belt, and it’s a good one!), cooking his own meals...everything. He really is an inspiration – I think he needs to give talks to people who’ve had Strokes. I think back to that first moment, when I saw him in the hospital – he couldn’t swallow or sit up straight, he couldn’t see properly, he couldn’t talk normally (he’d lost some use of his vocal chords so he sounded croaky) he didn’t walk for over a week and then only supervised for short distances with a frame. It’s less than two months later and look at him – it’s amazing.
My dad’s really inspired me, his will to survive and conquer. I’ve cleaned up my life (I’ve largely quit drinking (though this was for a number of reasons, which I might go into in a another entry)), and taken a look at what’s important, and who I am.
Yesterday we left for Newquay (we’re in a ‘Day’s Inn’ motel near Bristol (I’m up insanely early and Raine’s sleeping)), and I feel nervous. I keep likening my feelings to parents who leave their babies for the first time. This is unfair to my dad – obviously I don’t think of him as a baby (these are important distinctions to make when you’re talking about someone who’s had a Stroke – so many people talk down to Stroke victims, as if they’re slightly simple now) – but I’m scared of what might happen while I’m away. This is irrational, and I know he’s going to be fine, but...I will be ringing everyday. Driving here yesterday evening I asked at one point if it was too soon to ring, the answer was yes – we’d been gone an hour and a half! Newquay is going to be good, though – kicking back in our old home, surfing and chilling.
We got our first ever Ipod yesterday – it’s very pretty, in midnight blue, with 1560 songs on. The deposit came back from our old house, and so I treated us in time for the epic Newquay drive. It came with a free speaker-docking station, so it’s pretty funky – it seems to have taken a while for MP3’s to translate into communal listening. In some ways being poor is good (and I recognise that my definition of being poor is relative!) – it makes you appreciate little things so much. Now the weather’s nice Raine and I have a hat, filled with slips of paper, each one is a different, ‘fun free thing to do’...most things in there are brilliant –a game of Frisbee on the beach, a bike ride at sunset...
Well, that’s all for now. Happy Easter everyone! I hope you have a wonderful sun-filled break. I’ll probably update while in Newquay, maybe in picture journal form.
I think it’s testament to our strength (Raine says that together we are much greater than the sum of our parts, and I think she’s right) that we’ve ridden through everything. We’ve mostly laughed (slightly hysterically at times) at our fortune. Then, every time something good presents itself we’ve held it aloft and celebrated it as if England had won the World Cup.
So, those good things...well I’m not going to get pregnant. My doctor put me on the Pill, so ’the clothes I’m wearing from now on are going to take up a little less yardage.’ You can’t be too careful. Ah, it’s going to take me a while to tire of this joke...but seriously, as I said earlier, my manic depression reared its head. I’ve been watching my moods really closely since I started feeling my grip on sanity loosening, and it seemed it was largely connected to my monthly cycle, so I’ve been put on the pill. It seems to be helping, too...and such a relief knowing we won’t be hearing the pitter patter of little feet;-)
My dad’s doing great, and I mean great! When he goes out he doesn’t even take a stick anymore, and yesterday he was given the ok to drive. He just needs to have an eye test, and inform the insurance company, then he’s off - driving. This was such a distant hope when the Stroke first struck. He’s writing again (he already has one post-Stroke play under his belt, and it’s a good one!), cooking his own meals...everything. He really is an inspiration – I think he needs to give talks to people who’ve had Strokes. I think back to that first moment, when I saw him in the hospital – he couldn’t swallow or sit up straight, he couldn’t see properly, he couldn’t talk normally (he’d lost some use of his vocal chords so he sounded croaky) he didn’t walk for over a week and then only supervised for short distances with a frame. It’s less than two months later and look at him – it’s amazing.
My dad’s really inspired me, his will to survive and conquer. I’ve cleaned up my life (I’ve largely quit drinking (though this was for a number of reasons, which I might go into in a another entry)), and taken a look at what’s important, and who I am.
Yesterday we left for Newquay (we’re in a ‘Day’s Inn’ motel near Bristol (I’m up insanely early and Raine’s sleeping)), and I feel nervous. I keep likening my feelings to parents who leave their babies for the first time. This is unfair to my dad – obviously I don’t think of him as a baby (these are important distinctions to make when you’re talking about someone who’s had a Stroke – so many people talk down to Stroke victims, as if they’re slightly simple now) – but I’m scared of what might happen while I’m away. This is irrational, and I know he’s going to be fine, but...I will be ringing everyday. Driving here yesterday evening I asked at one point if it was too soon to ring, the answer was yes – we’d been gone an hour and a half! Newquay is going to be good, though – kicking back in our old home, surfing and chilling.
We got our first ever Ipod yesterday – it’s very pretty, in midnight blue, with 1560 songs on. The deposit came back from our old house, and so I treated us in time for the epic Newquay drive. It came with a free speaker-docking station, so it’s pretty funky – it seems to have taken a while for MP3’s to translate into communal listening. In some ways being poor is good (and I recognise that my definition of being poor is relative!) – it makes you appreciate little things so much. Now the weather’s nice Raine and I have a hat, filled with slips of paper, each one is a different, ‘fun free thing to do’...most things in there are brilliant –a game of Frisbee on the beach, a bike ride at sunset...
Well, that’s all for now. Happy Easter everyone! I hope you have a wonderful sun-filled break. I’ll probably update while in Newquay, maybe in picture journal form.
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Travels
Flat hunting remains without hope. I looked at a shoe box on Monday - the room we have at Raine's mum's house is bigger than the three rooms of that flat. Saturday we looked at somewhere we'd have loved...had it not had the worse damp we'd ever seen. Our last house had damp, but that flat rivaled a swimming pool. We're thinking we're going to abandon the hunt until we're back from Newquay. We go there for a week next Wednesday (the 8th).
It's good being back by the sea. I'm a water baby at heart. We go for walks at sun down, listening to the waves lapping up, and a few days ago we managed to capture the beauty:
Sunday was a glorious day. We purchased a super cool frisbee, and spent the afternoon on the beach with friends. The frisbee is actually a hi-tech flying disk. Aparently someone won a world record with one - they threw it a quarter of a mile. It does fly like nothing else, but we're not planning to run after it for a quarter of a mile. At sun down we came up with the idea frisbee golf/hoopla - you have to get the frisbee around the golf post:
Once the sun went down we hoopla-ed ourselves some drinks:
The surfboard is now here. The roadtrip to collect rocked. T'was a sunny weekend:
Made it to the hotel in good time. We scored ourselves a recession bargain - Days Inn are selling their rooms for £25 a night.
Set off early to get to London, and had much fun figuring out the roofrack. It actually wasn't too hard, but it was stressful - worrying if we'd done it right, or if the board was going to take flight on the motorway. Thankfully we had it right:
We stopped by Milton Keynes and had noodles with Paul. Now she's sat at home, waiting for some waves, and isn't she beautiful:
My dad's doing really well. I spend time with him everyday. Unless it's long distances he can walk everywhere now. We all went to see Gran Torino last night - really great film!
It's good being back by the sea. I'm a water baby at heart. We go for walks at sun down, listening to the waves lapping up, and a few days ago we managed to capture the beauty:
Sunday was a glorious day. We purchased a super cool frisbee, and spent the afternoon on the beach with friends. The frisbee is actually a hi-tech flying disk. Aparently someone won a world record with one - they threw it a quarter of a mile. It does fly like nothing else, but we're not planning to run after it for a quarter of a mile. At sun down we came up with the idea frisbee golf/hoopla - you have to get the frisbee around the golf post:
Once the sun went down we hoopla-ed ourselves some drinks:
The surfboard is now here. The roadtrip to collect rocked. T'was a sunny weekend:
Made it to the hotel in good time. We scored ourselves a recession bargain - Days Inn are selling their rooms for £25 a night.
Set off early to get to London, and had much fun figuring out the roofrack. It actually wasn't too hard, but it was stressful - worrying if we'd done it right, or if the board was going to take flight on the motorway. Thankfully we had it right:
We stopped by Milton Keynes and had noodles with Paul. Now she's sat at home, waiting for some waves, and isn't she beautiful:
My dad's doing really well. I spend time with him everyday. Unless it's long distances he can walk everywhere now. We all went to see Gran Torino last night - really great film!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
