The benefits of a bump on the head

Posted on October 27, 2015 by thepogblog

On Saturday I shut my head in my car door.  I don’t mean that the door closed on it gently, – I mean I somehow managed to confuse ‘being in the car’ with ‘getting in the car’ and slammed it shut.  With my head right in the way.  It hurt quite a bit, although all I have to show for it is a slightly ouchy egg on one side and slightly dented pride at the time (of course, in a teeny tiny village, someone just happened to be walking past).

Anyhow, the good news is that I think rather than losing some brain cells, I actually gained them.

Saturday night was date three with Lovely Man.  I don’t know quite how it happened – it was supposed to be just us going out, but in the end it was him, me, Sister 1, Little Pea, Sister 2 and her boyfriend all standing in a field in the pouring rain watching fireworks.  He and I then went for a pizza with Sister 2 and her boyfriend.

He was very brave, and his usual lovely self, but I had the sudden dawning realisation that although lovely is…well, lovely, my Sisters dogs are all lovely, but it doesn’t mean I want a relationship with them.  This really wasn’t for me.  Last night I wrote my first ever ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ mail (in hopefully far better words) and he wrote, as I almost expected, a lovely response.

At the same time as the lovely concept hit, I realised something else:  I am really happy.  Ok, work drives me bonkers a lot of the time, but everything else is pretty damn good.  I have a brilliant family and some fantastic friends who I love spending time with.  I have hobbies coming out my ears (I’ve actually been trying to work out if a double fit ball class would actually kill me, as one hour a week is just not enough) and so many plans in my head of the things I want to do I could keep busy every waking hour, even if I didn’t have to earn pennies to pay the mortgage.  Right now, I don’t really have the time or the inclination to do this dating lark, so for now, I am just going to get on with being me.  That in itself can sometimes be a bit of an effort!

That said, I’m not ruling out another first date or two – just not today :o)

There's no appropriate picture, so here is a picture Norman took of himself.

There’s no appropriate picture, so here is a Norman selfie.

Posted in cats, Dating, Pog Life | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Photos of different shapes sizes and topics :o)

Posted on October 23, 2015 by thepogblog

I’ve done that thing again where I’ve taken photos with the intention of writing a blog post and never actually got round to the writing.  So they don’t go completely to waste, here we have:

A terrifying insight into the village next to Bumpkinsville.  At least, I was scared enough to do an emergency stop in the car when these appeared:

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Driving round the village I discovered they weren’t the only bits of weirdness:

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I missed the group doing the YMCA and the fireman climbing up the side of the old fire station.  It turns out they were all entries for a scarecrow competition.  Obviously.

I’ve done a bit of secret bakering this week.  Carrying four trays of Twix cake to work made my wrist rather hurty, and it wasn’t in perfect condition by the time I arrived:

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But it has become a bit of a conversation topic, so I achieved my aim to get people in the office talking :o)

I even got a thank you:

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And last night I had my ipad near me when Norman decided to bestow (his version) of love on me.  Just because they amuse me, here’s what happens when Norman sticks around for a while:

Tonight, I am a loooong cat

Tonight, I am a loooong cat

...intent on Question Time...

…intent on Question Time…

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…and stealing your wool while I watch Question Time upside down.

Seriously woman! Get away from the wool and go to bed. I have some partying to be getting on with!

But seriously woman! Get away from the wool and go to bed. I have some partying to be getting on with!

Happy weekend, people :)

 

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A furball shaped issue

Posted on October 20, 2015 by thepogblog

I think I might have a bit of a problem. It comes in the shape of Norman Cat.

You might remember he went through a rather long stage of bringing me home a neighbour’s dinner – pork chops, sausages, salmon, an entire joint of beef… well, that stopped a while back. (Thank God – I was pretty sure there was a price on his head as a result of his thieving.)  Instead, I became the recipient of moths and the occasional slug which were a lot easier to cope with. But something has happened recently and all I can put it down to is Norman’s disapproval of my sudden social life.

(Don’t fall off your chair, but one of these nights out was a second date with the lovely man. Very nice thank you. No disasters – unless you count the fact that I didn’t panic enough this time, decided to wear a particular top in the morning, washed it, hung it on the bathroom heater to dry and 40 minutes before leaving for the evening, discovered that it had fallen on the floor and was still soaking wet. Totally unable to decide on something else to wear at such short notice, I put it on anyway, and hair dryer-ed it to an almost dry state. I also managed to accidentally put on some tights/ leggings from my rounder days so by the time I arrived I was steaming slightly on the top half and doing a bit of a Nora Batty impression on the bottom half. ‘Memorable’ is not something I aim for, but I think I may have a achieved it- for all the wrong reasons, as usual.)

So, back to Norman. I think he has been trying to stop me going out so much. I came home from work last week to find, wait for it….three mice liberally scattered throughout Pog Towers. I sat him down and asked if he could give me and the mouse population of Bumpkinsville a bit of a break***. He listened. I know this because the next night I came home to….a rat. Complete with decorative ivy. I’d obviously been too specific.

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Boot added to demonstrate the size of things…

Once again we sat down and I asked if he could stop bringing me gifts of any animals that I ran a risk of treading on. Once again he listened.

I went out Friday, Saturday and Sunday (you fell off your chair that time, didn’t you?).  Each time I came home I checked each room for ‘gifts’ and each time I was relieved to find none.  Norman must have given up.  Or just run out of wildlife.

Sunday night I sat on my chair – for the first time that weekend –  and snuggled down for a spot of crochet.  I have a blanket that I throw over the chair while I’m not using it to deter Norman from scratching it.  When I sit on it I just scoop the blanket to one side, like this:

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So, a few hours of crochet later I got up for bed, picked up the blanket to re-cover the chair and discovered… that at some point Norman had placed a mouse in the far corner.  I had been snuggled up with my wool, crochet hook, hot water bottle and a dead mouse.  I still feel sick.

We’ve had another chat.  I have been very general now (‘No animals of any kind, dead, alive or in human food format, anywhere in the house please), and I am hopeful.  I have taken my bed apart the last two nights though, just in case he’s hidden any more bodies :o)

***I just wanted to point out that I am not keen on any cat murdering wildlife.  He does it in the day time mostly though, so keeping him in at night wouldn’t help.  We have also tried every cat collar with multiple bells going, but 1) the local wildlife appears to be deaf as it made no difference and 2) Norman slips every collar within 24 hours and the vet has advised although is is a bit of a Houdini, he stands a good chance of hanging himself, as many cats who try to escape collars do. I am open to any ideas that other humans owned by cats may have!  :o)

Posted in animals, Bumpkinsville, cats, crochet, Dating, Pog Life | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

The rules of commuting

Posted on October 14, 2015 by thepogblog

I always said I’d never get a job where I had to commute. For the last 16 years I’ve been commuting up to two hours each way, so clearly that didn’t go quite to plan.

With that many years under my belt, I consider myself a veteran. I know the rules of commuting in England. And I think the English bit is quite important, as there is something terribly English (and sometimes a little Pogish) about it all. These are my top 3.

1 – Make no contact

Obviously the first rule is that you should never, ever talk to anyone. Ideally, you should not make eye contact either. The only time this rule changes is if there is an ‘incident’, (train not moving for the last 30 minutes, no arrival of the train, suspicion of the wrong leaves / snow/ rain/sun on the line) at which point all barriers come down in an attempt to understand what’s happening….because it’s almost a certainty that nobody official will tell you.*
*Note: if you do talk to someone who is a regular traveller on your train, you will then have to ‘good morning’ them until one of you retires.

2 – Shhh!

On an early morning train, if you’re with a friend, do not talk above a whisper. Trains are, for many commuters, and extention of bed. We aim to squeeze in an extra 30 minutes sleep, 40 if possible.. If you’re shouting like you’re in a night club you will get….um, a look or two (well,we are British).  On the same note, for the love of God, if you need to listen to music before 7am, please listen to it alone.  Get some decent ear phones or get ready for ‘the look’.  From everyone.

3 – That’s my seat*

If you regularly travel on the same train that isn’t so crowded it’s like playing a game of sardines, there is a good chance that people will have their own seat.  (You learn this if you are always on the same train with the same people). This is nothing official but for the sake of being a good English citizen, and to reduce the possibility of death stares, do not sit in someone else’s place. Please. Especially if it’s mine. It’s taken years to work out the optimal position to avoid being blown away/ rained on if someone opens a window, close to the heater in winter and close enough to the door to get out in a speedy fashion when I’ve fallen asleep and have woken up just as I’m about to miss my stop.

*The exception to this rule is if you are not a regular.  You will still get a look, but a far more gentle one.

This is the best time of year for commuting as far as I am concerned.  It’s just the right weather for what I call my witches cardigan.  It is very long and floaty and has a great big collar that I pull over my head when I get on the train (it makes things feel less commutey and more cosy) and whenever I do this, people seem to instinctively understand my ‘rules’.  It dawned on me yesterday that maybe I really looked a bit witch like, so I took a selfie to find out:

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Hmmm.  I think I’d probably keep my distance from that too! :o)

 

 

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A first date

Posted on October 9, 2015 by thepogblog

You know I told you that having signed up to a dating site I was talking to a lovely man?  Well last night we went on a First Date.

I have no idea how it got that far.

The problem with internet dating is that first impressions are made on email.  And the problem with that is that I am REALLY good at typos.  The most impressive being when I was attempting to bring into conversation that we might not recognise each other.  I was suggesting alternatives to the usual

‘carnation in a bottom hole / copy of the financial times’.

I didn’t spot it until after I sent the mail, and followed up quickly with:

‘BUTTON hole. Clearly I meant button hole. Absolutely nobody should wear a carnation in their bottom hole. Ever.’

I’d been informed that my usual rather military boots / comfy trainers that I walk in were not first date appropriate so  I told him that the only concession I would make to changing how I usually dress (which never included a carnation) was to wear proper shouts.

I didn’t pick that one up.  He did. :0/

So yesterday after work, with no carnation in any awkward orifice and proper shouts on my feet, I went to meet him.  I promptly got lost and because I usually wear flat shoes to walk any distance I got cramp in my big toes (Who gets cramp in their big toes?!).  I had squished my trainers into my rucksack that doubles as a small house, but there wasn’t room in there to exchange them for the contraptions of torture on my feet.  I did try, but that meant I had to unpack the rucksack at the side of the road, and then I couldn’t fit one of the trainers back in.  It was all becoming a bit traumatic (and just the idea of meeting was a trauma in itself).

Anyway, I got there.  The plan was just a coffee, but I asked the waitress for wine.  She brought me tap water.  I must have looked like wine would be a bad idea at that point.  Lovely man arrived.  He got wine….I got, something very orange that swelled weird.  Finally I got my wine, we started talking and….we didn’t really stop.

I am happy to report that there was no talk of prostitutes, no newspaper print over anyone’s face, and none of the other weird things that have happened on previous dates.  In fact the only thing that went rather wrong was when I tried to put my jacket on and somehow it ended up upside down.  Like a two year old, I put my arms in anyway and there was a clatter as the vast quantity of mint imperials I keep in my pocket at all times clattered to the floor and rolled all over place including under the feet of the rather uptight couple on the next table.  They were obviously already irritated by us laughing lots and loudly, but possibly a bit more so as I retrieved the mints while we both giggled like children.

Just as we were leaving, the lovely man pulled a gorgeous bunch of roses out of his bag for me.  Thoughtfully, he said he hadn’t given them to me at the start of the night because it might have been awkward, and that this way he could say they were to say thank you for a good evening.

‘And if the evening hadn’t been good?’ I asked

‘I’d have taken them home’, he grinned :o)

But he didn’t just give me a bunch of roses, he gave me something so much better.  I walked to the station, still wearing my proper shouts, wondering if I would ever be able to walk normally again.  Then I realised….the flowers were in a plastic bag!  I ripped off the evil shouts, put them in the bag and pulled on the little clouds of air that are my trainers.

Roses AND happy feet after an evening of laughing.  What more could a girl ask for? :o)

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Norman was less impressed by the bag than me. He set snake on it.

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A Little Pea, Sister 1, Sister 2, and me day at the beach

Posted on October 6, 2015 by thepogblog

My family spend quite a lot of time together, but I think Saturday was the first time both my Sisters and I have taken Little Pea out together for a whole day.  I’m not sure if it was the excitement or the sheer amount we squeezed into the day that made us all want to sleep on the train home (all, that is, except Little Pea), but we did a lot of doing and a lot of laughing.  It was a very fun day :o)

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It was Little Pea’s first real train journey.  It was my first with Mr Crocodile.

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We didn’t have a bucket and spade, but we did have empty polystyrene cups for sandcastle building (I just watched – touching sand made my teeth itchy)

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There was a digger ON the beach.  It doesn’t get more exciting than that….

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…until Sister 2 tells you about sharks and you have to hide behind her…

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…but once you have been given the mission to help George the friendly shark to frighten the scary sharks, life becomes a stone throwing frenzy.

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Followed by a bit of a lie down.

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Sister 2 thinks she has a big head.  She stood this far back to try to get it in proportion…

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Then up again.

And off for fish and chips

‘I don’t like fish’

‘It’s chicken fish’

‘Oh, I like chicken fish’

Then to the fastest lap of the aquarium ever (there wasn’t even time to take photos as the excitement of the next fish was so great, we didn’t stop anywhere for more than a few seconds.)

Next:  The miniature railway back up the see front and to the fairground for a couple of rides

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I think we can see who enjoyed that one the most…

Then to the arcade to press a lot of buttons, even if someone else was playing.

And then the VERY long walk back to the station.  It wasn’t that far, but it turns out Sister 1’s sense of direction is worse than mine and we ended up somewhere near France.

We finally got back on the train and Sister 2 joined forces with Mr Crocodile to entertain us all (rather disturbingly, it turned out Mr C thought Sister 1 was a ‘MILF’.  Ahem.)

We asked Little Pea what the best part of the day had been.  After all that, after everything we had done, what did he announce as his very favourite thing?  Going to the station!  :o)

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A technology explosion

Posted on October 2, 2015 by thepogblog

There has been a bit of a technology explosion around deepest, darkest Bumpkinsville. First, I decided it was high time I got some sort of device to use for the internet and the blog and various things, that wasn’t owned by my company. With the help of friends on Facebook and a lot of help from nearly neighbour (who knows me well, saw my thoughts on Facebook, and contacted me to say not to buy anything until I’d spoken to her), I bought an iPad a few weeks ago.

With help from nearly neighbour, this went surprisingly smoothly. The only real issue I had was when I downloaded an app that plays you sounds as you fell asleep. I thought it would be a great way to relax and maybe block out some of the noise fom next door. It was tough deciding which one to listen to. The sea sound wasn’t great and meant I kept having to get up to go to the tiolet, the thunderstorm took me right bak to the Philipines and every time I drifted off, I started awake again in a panic that I’d have to go scuba diving in the morning. The cracking fire was nice, but meant I had to get up to check the house wasn’lt burning down on a few occaisions. In the end I settled on the frog and robin sound. It’s really relaxing and calming. Until Norman cat comes in from his partying, that is, and makes it his mission to find that frog and robin. Unfortunately, as the iPad was right by my head, all sorts of chaos ensued. Needless to say, I’ve stopped listening to that.

Anyway, I took my new toy to show Mum and Dad. Dad hasn’t used a computer since he retired about 15 years ago. Mum has never used one. they were impressed – and the short story is that they have also bought one and for the first time ever, are connected to the interweb. Somehow, I managed to set their iPad up and took it to their house for their first lesson.

I don’t think it was quite as straight forward as they had imagined. Mum has very cold fingers that made the touch screen a bit of a challenge. Dad insisted on shaking the thing to move the screen around, rather than moving it from landscape to portrait. Mum wanted to learn how to email with her new ’email number’ and wanted to know how to dial people. I had to explain it was a little different to a phone number. We got there though. Just. There was much ‘no, not that bu….oh ok, press that button then, and we’ll just start that bit again.’ Mum did lots of sucking her breath through her teeth and waving of hands. Probably the most entertaining part was watching my parents faces when we face timed with Sister 2 at her house. To be honest, I had only done that the week before for the first time and found it quite exciting, but I guess when you haven’t used or seen a webcam before, it is even more impressive. Things descended into our usual family chaos when Sister 1 arrived and we ended up demonstrating face time again- Mum on the arm chair, us on the sofa. In the same room. We still had an entire conversation before we all said goodbye though.

This week I have received three emails from mum. There were quite a few random capital letters, which was an achievement considering that the mails only consisted of a few lines….and frustration steamed out of them. But she is trying and that is all that matters. From little acorns, and all that. Next, we have to get her involved in Facebook. I think that could be more of challenge, but before you know it, my mum will be writing her own blog. Dad….well, dad will probably stick to just checking the weather on his weather app :o)

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What could go wrong?

Posted on September 29, 2015 by thepogblog

I wouldn’t say I do things for this blog.  But I often have a thought in my head that says ‘Well, if it doesn’t work out, at least I might entertain a couple of people with the stories.’ (Think Scuba diving,yoga, fitball….) And that is partly why I’ve signed up to internet dating…again.  A five year or so gap has dulled the pain enough to have another go.   The other reason is that it would be quite nice to meet a lovely man who doesn’t leave black fur in his wake.  (Obviously that’s a reference to Norman cat rather than an ex.)

I knew there would some interesting elements, but I didn’t think they would actually start before I’d seen any profiles.

I did my homework- reading reviews of the sites most people agreed had a better chance of working, asking friends what they used and with what level of success. I decided to go with eharmony. Partly because a friend had recently met her partner on it, mostly because I had heard a few horror stories of colleagues discovering each other through their profiles on other sites and all sorts of awkwardness resulting. To the uninitiated, eharmony requests that you fill in around 2798 questions, then it matches you with others who have also filled in the required 2798 questions and have come up in the system as having some element of common ground with (Other than the fact that you both found the time to fill in the 2798 questions). You can’t ‘search’ for people – you can only see your matches.  Although to date I have A LOT of matches, so I’m not sure it’s pared things down much. I tried this site years ago on one of their free weekends, but all I can remember is receiving a diatribe from an individual about how anyone he met had to have absolutely no baggage and definitely no cats. I wouldn’t have minded, but I’d not spoken to him – it was his ‘introduction’.  It kind of put me off and I didn’t bother after that.

Anyway, things seem to have moved on, as they often do, and the site has changed a lot since then. I had discovered in my research that they actually reject people based on their answers sometimes, so I decided to ‘forget’ the cat (I’m sorry Norman) and the crochet habit to start with. I thought if anyone saw that on my profile they would make assumptions – possibly correct ones – but assumptions none the less. So I filled in the 2798 questions, got accepted (!), reviewed the payment options and decided to go for the six month option- if I was going to do this, I might as well give it a good shot. I put my card details in, waited and….well I could see profiles, but no pictures, which I had been promised once I had paid. I decided it might take a while.

Part way through all this my phone had buzzed that I had a text message. I thought I might as well check it while I waited. It was from the fraud part of my bank saying they were concerned about recent activity on my account. Argh! I called them. 45 minutes later I was having a conversation with someone that went something like this:

‘There has been some activity on your account that is very out of character for you.’

<Me, thinking someone had spent thousands.  Well, not thousands, because there isn’t that much on my account, but you know, lots> ‘What’s gone through?’

‘There seems to be a payment to….e harmony.’

I can only assume that even my bank have me down as a terminally single person who should give up hope (the amount of money wasn’t big enough to trigger a flag).  This was getting kind of insulting. I explained that no, my card wasn’t missing, yes, I really had signed up to a dating site, and yes, I would like them to put the payment through please.  I did feel like adding they should be terribly proud of me.

And finally I got to the pictures.  I contacted a few people, a few contacted me.  The short story is that three days later I have upset two people sufficiently to stop contacting me, one I’m not sure if I am upset or if there was a technical glitch (but I was kind of relieved about that to be honest).  I am still talking to one who seems very lovely.  I have admitted to my crochet habit (but made out it is very mild) and he took it in his stride.  In the last message I dropped into conversation that I also have a cat.  I’ve not heard from him since, but you never know.

Wish me luck.  Part of me is thinking ‘what could go wrong?  But it’s me.  And the other part knows I need all the luck out there :o)

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A visit to The Lovely Nut and a bit of history gathering

Posted on September 25, 2015 by thepogblog

Every summer I spend a weekend with my friend, The Lovely Nut.  At 78, she can get away with saying pretty much what she thinks. Like when I showed her my most recent Facebook profile picture (I was proud as I thought I actually looked human):

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‘Yes….’ she said

‘What?’ I asked (I knew something was coming)

‘Well it makes you look quite old, doesn’t it?’

‘How old?’ (I knew I’d regret this)

‘About 52.’

!!!!  Thanks for that.

I got my own back though.  We went wandering around charity shops as The Lovely Nut pretty much buys her entire wardrobe from them, altering as required.  I pulled out a cardigan in her favoured bright pink and she looked at it and said:’It’s a bit fillety floppety for me these days.  I’m a bit more street now’. I fell about laughing as did the girl next to us.  The Lovely Nut claimed she had said ‘straight’ but I’m not so sure.

Anyway, back to the original reason for writing this….She has a house in real Bumpkinsville, about 45 minutes from my Bumpkinsville and it is beautiful. Every time I go, I try to describe it to people, but I never do it justice, so last weekend while I was there, I asked the Lovely Nut to remind me of the stories she has told me over the years and I took some photos so you can see why I think it is such an amazing place.

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I spent some time looking at various documents, including the deeds for the house going back to 1799. They were hand written in beautiful copperplate and most contained the wax seals of those involved. There were census record too, showing that the house had been a home to the likes of farmers, shoemakers, a butcher and journeymen – we assumed the latter were people who traveled selling their wares.

The lovely Nut and her husband bought the house and 6 acres of land in 1965 for £2,500. It wasn’t in a state that they could live in, so when they came down from their home in London they camped in the grounds while they did it up. After 6 weeks of heavy rain (and a leaky tent) they moved into the two front rooms and camped there instead. The Lovely Nut says she remembers field mice running across the room when they lit the fire.

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The house was originally two – it still has both front doors. It had been empty for years and from the way The Lovely Nut talks, it needed more than a lot of work – everything from digging out part of the ground floor to scraping the flaky walls….with pumice stones.
It was 1982 before the house got water or electricity – it’s about half a mile off a dirt track to the road. Until then, they cooked on three paraffin heaters and, until they discovered an underground tank that a local farmer filled for them and they then pumped out with a hand pump, they took 4 gerry cans of water from London to last them all weekend (Her words: ‘We didn’t really drink water in those days though – we mostly drank wine’). Even when they had access to the tank, they had to pass it through a charcoal filter as it wasn’t clean enough to drink.

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a paraffin heater

The oil lamps that were used as oil lamps until 1982 – then The Lovely Nut’s husband and son converted them to electric (‘And they worked so much better – we needed three to get enough light when they were oil lamps, to see well enough at the kitchen table in the evenings’).

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For years the walls were lined with black plastic that they glued on, then that was covered with lining paper, then a brown covering.  Now the walls are bright – covered with old, but beautiful wallpaper that is just right for the house.

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I love the quirkiness of the place.  Two of my favourite things are the outside shower – complete with soap dish –  (‘because if you got hot outside it was terribly useful’).  Never mind the fact that there is a public right of way through the grounds!

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And the bench that started life as a gate, but Lovely Nut’s husband did something magical to it:

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I asked The Lovely Nut what is the best thing about living there.  She said she agreed with her late husband’s words, that it’s:  ‘The answer to a dream, perfect peace. Our earthly paradise.’

And I have to agree.  Just not on the bit about looking 52.  I hope :o)

Here are a few more pictures to give you more flavour of the house:

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Posted in Bumpkinsville, Pog Pictures | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

Hospital entertainment and a really big bag

Posted on September 22, 2015 by thepogblog

My family and I try to find smiles where we can (hopefully you’ll have worked that out from this blog by now).  For some reason, it still surprised me (and made me laugh a lot) when I arrived at the hospital where Mummy W had already spent a few hours in A&E to find Sister 1 and 2 chatting to each other as though nothing was amiss with…a blown up plastic glove tied into their hair:

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It didn’t improve:

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Poor Mummy was in a lot of pain, but their antics made her giggle – and hurt.

Last Sunday I’d teased Sister 1 about the size of her handbag.  She could probably fit Little Pea in there and still have room for the kitchen sink.  It came into it’s own last night though.  A Little Pea sized patient was clearly not happy about being there, but Sister 1 reached into the tardis and found a small yellow car.  I’m not sure whose smile was bigger – the little boy’s or his Mum’s.  After a few hours of being there myself I was starting to struggle with a lack of caffeine (there were no machines anywhere) and my head started thumping.  Sister 1 and her Mary Poppins bag to the rescue though – Kenco or kettle, but she did have some painkillers – hooray!

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please note the plastic glove, cup, face wipes, nappy bag and charger. And that’s just what’s on the top!

She then found a stethoscope and was very concerned she couldn’t find her heart (a doctor gave her a lesson in finding it, but apparently Sister 1 thought is was rather quiet), but between the donation of the yellow car and staving off my caffeine withdrawal, I think we can assume she definitely had one.

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Both Sisters spent a lot of yesterday at the hospital so when it got past their bedtime they left and I stayed.  Luckily, I’d had the foresight it might be a long night and took my crochet.  I got quite a lot done by the time Mum was found a bed at 12.45am – there’s always a silver lining :o)

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(We’re waiting on CT scan results to find out what is actually wrong with Mummy W.  She’s not feeling very good right now, so if you have any spare happy thoughts to send her way, please do.  Otherwise my Sisters might have to continue with their entertaining… :o) )

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