This isn't a grumble :)

I have a relative, who I love lots. As I don't get out a lot, she often asks whether there's anything I need. If I do, I'll make her a little list, and give her the money. We're talking butter, a particular spice, black pepper maybe?

One teeny problem. I have to explain in detail why I need it. If I don't, I don't get it. I'll get a blank look, and my money back. I've tried to be gentle, and I've tried being blunt, and the result is always the same.

A quiet and dignified upset expression, and "well, I saw it, but I couldn't see why...". I've tried saying no, I don't need anything thanks, I've asked why, but I just get that upset look and a shrug. I'm at a loss here folks. Can someone offer me a solution please? Many thanks.

~~~~~

Update 30/12/2010.

Had a long chat with my friend yesterday, and she explained that she had a desire to protect me. But she also said that she's also had problems with her memory over the last few months that had been a worry to her, but was embarrassed to talk to her GP about it. She's in her early 40's.

It just happens, as she lives locally, we have the same GP, whom I have an excellent relationship with.
I have a GP appointment soon. I don't travel alone, and Bear normally accompanies me. But Bear made a quick call, and hey presto, one double appointment. Nice.

In case you've wondered, I showed Bear and my friend this post, and the comments, and they have no problems with it.

A very happy Christmas

I've had a few drinks, and it's been busy busy, busy.

It's 17:50, and I still haven't finished cooking Christmas Dinner.

It's a man thing :) Tell you what, I've just tasted my 'make it up as I go along' gravy, and it's to die for.

It's hard work, but it's worth it. Have a very Merry Christmas :)

Welcome to my world...

Won't you come on in.. :)

Mad, mad time. Even though technically it's just Bear, Tots and I, we get a steady stream of visitors, and I can't leave them empty handed or unfed.

Besides, it's a compliment, and though it's darn hard work, it's nice to get visitors, nice to see the fruits of your labours appreciated. In our house, Christmas lasts to just after new year.

But one has to be sensible. So simple and inexpensive ingredients are the order of the day, and maybe a little something special to take home. Just a little, not a lot.

Samosas go down well with visitors. It's a simple pastry case, forget the purists, of your favourite pastry rolled thin cut into half rounds, folded into triangles and filled with a spoonful of whatever veg you have available sautéd with a little oil and butter and a pinch of whatever spices you might have available in the cupboard.

To take home? Well, I'm an inveterate pickler. A 250 ml jar of home made chutney, piccalilli, chilli sauce, jelly, fruit jam or marmalade goes down well.

After the 25th? Anything they like, as long as it has turkey in it. That includes fruits, spices - and I love Moroccan stuff. :)

Why? because all those Christmas spices originate from the East, Africa.

And the Christmas story originates from the East. Those spices are a reminder.

In case I forget, have a good one.

Atomic

I've hit a really annoying problem with my little weather station

The indoor display - standalone, not computer connected - has one of those clocks that picks up a signal from the National Physics Laboratory a couple of times a night to keep itself accurate. Otherwise known as an 'atomic' clock. Only it isn't.

Over the last week it's been setting itself one hour ahead every night. I've emailed NPL, but had no reply. Meanwhile, I'm setting it back manually every morning.

Am I the only one with this problem?

~~~~~

I've joined twitter. It's oddly fascinating. You'll find me at @wheelieslug.

Why Wheelieslug? Ah, that's a long story......... :)

A winters tale

First lunar eclipse since the 1630's on winter solstice. I got The Bear out of bed at 07:20 to watch it and she absolutely loved. it.

She sat on a dining room chair transfixed looking from our window over the back garden. She said it made her day. It was rather spectacular.

The view we watched was absolutely marvellous as it turned turned red and into a 'diamond ring' before it sunk over the hills, and it had an amazing 3D effect.

But the pictures I took were so wobbly as to be unusable. Luckily, Look North, broadcast live from Leeds, was cool. So I took a picture of the TV screen. So there :)

If the zombie dog incident showed me one thing, it was that when instinct takes over, it's amazing what one can do. I have fairly steep steps into my back garden, that day to day, I prefer not to use, because it's so darn difficult. I have no rail there, as the social services fitted one and a 'monkey swing handle' to the front door.

As I can get out of the front door thanks to the adaptations, and get into the back garden through a gate from there, the mobility services said a back rail was unnecessary. Cost cutting, limited resources, and all that. Yet when Sigma was in bother, I have no idea how I found myself with him.

And there's the dilemma. I've lost count of the number of times I've had to say to people with wonky bits like me, who have asked advice about claiming for help with their needs because they've had to appeal.

"No, you're telling Works and Pensions how wonderfully you manage, how well you do overcoming adversity, how you've struggled to 'be normal' and how you've succeeded, with a little loving help."

"They don't want to know that. They want to know, in a nutshell, 'what will it take for you to live as normal a life as possible, describe the problems you have' ". They've always looked a little crushed and crestfallen, and rightly so, because they and their carers have worked damn hard to appear and manage like people without wonky bits do, and frequently succeed. For a little time. And the hard work start over again.

Of course it's a matter of degree. If you can manage 90% of the time, you probably don't need that much help. And there's the problem I anticipate in the new, streamlined system. Yes, it will weed out those who have played the system for what they can get in a 20/30 minute interview.

But my worry is for the rightly proud, the scrappers, battlers, the courageous, who want to demonstrate how well they can deal with their disability. Who don't want to be a burden, but, through no fault of their own, will be, once those thirty minutes are over.

Everyone has the right to reach or regain their potential, that's the story of humanity. When it comes to disability, there will be those who, if properly supported, can contribute to society or increase their contribution. For others, support gives them the right to life. Government should recognise that.

Ye small gods, I'm starting to sound like a disability activist.......

~~~~~~

Five days to go :)

Tree up, lights up, lights up on the windows, check.
Presents under the tree, check.
Turkey bought, check.

Ginger cake, check.
Christmas Pudding, check.
Christmas cake (yeh, I know it supposed to mature, but it'll disappear in 5 mins), check.
Chilli sauce, prezzie's, check.
Likewise Sweet Chilli Jam, check.

Pickled Onions, Betroot, Chutney, home made Branston Pickle and Tomato Sauce, check.
Oranges and lemons, Stocking fillers,

Ingredients for the stuffing and Roasties, the veg and herbs, yup.

Wife and daughters nipping down to sons place to put him up a Christmas tree, oh yes.

Now then. Only Treacle Toffee, Peanut brittle, Toffee chews, Lemon Drops, Old Fashioned Humbugs, Fudge, and Glacé fruits to make. Phew!

I hope my lass remembers to put a nice 25 year old single malt to the shopping list.

Kerching.

Plonk. I'm sat at the keyboard, minding my own business.

Plonk. Another whatever-it-is hit the back of my head.

Now, as any experienced father will tell you, being a parent is an occupational hazard. After a few years of it, nothing surprises you, particularly when you have a mischievous 13 year old daughter.

PLONK. Hmm. That was heavier. I doggedly ignored it, until I heard the faintest hint of a giggle.

"Gee-or Tots" I muttered nonchalantly. That normally works with missy 'don't call me Tots I'm nearly 14 now y'know'

Kerplunk !!.

Ow, and I mean, Ow. I'm not going to look. It's a matter of pride. I'm not even going rub the sore spot on the back of my head, even though I'm getting a bit of a nervous twitch. "Onwards and upwards" I thought, glaring fixedly, teeth gritted, at the screen.

The giggle degenerated into a sound that I imagine a demented cat might make if it got it's head stuck in a bowl of snotty porridge, followed by some rather laboured gasping. No way was I going to give in.

THUD. I swung round "Why you little tw......"

Eh? Tots was on the couch, waving her legs in the air, writhing, red as beetroot, hand over her mouth, vainly trying her darnest not to laugh. The other arm was flopping like a fish, waving vaguely to the floor beside her.

Thump! A rather large, hard rubber ball hit me right, smack, between the eyes.

WOOF! That's when I noticed, through a vague haze, my Wheels and I were surrounded by dog biscuits, and a wild-eyed woofler was sitting head cocked to one side, tongue hanging out, panting.
WOOF! He dived, tail wagging, on a biscuit, picked it up in his jaws, and with a flick of his head, flung it at my forehead. To much hysterical merriment from the family.

Just for good measure, he repeated the trick with his ball at 100 mph into my lap. I'm not sure which hurt most...

I don't know who taught him that trick, and I don't care. I'm going contact the England Cricket Team, and next time they want to bring the Ashes home, Sigma, aka The Idiot Dog, is going with them.

For a fee, of course.

Stay with me

Had a really good discussion with some of my neighbours who popped round last night with a few beers. They do that :)

They'd noticed that a lot of my friends, male and female, are homosexual. It was a robust discussion, with a lot of blunt and straightforward questions, that I was happy to answer. Not one of them, by the way, had any religious affiliations.

It isn't complicated for me. A friend, is a friend, is a friend. The thing that seemed to bother them most is what other people got up to in their bedrooms. Eh? Chuff off! Who's business is that?

Love is. I've been married to the same lady for over 25 years, and we're very much in love. I can't see why that should be different for anyone else, whatever their gender.

Catchya!