This morning I awoke and screeched with laughter - my husband was standing looking puzzled at the bottom of my bed, announcing how very tight his trousers were feeling, and asking my opinion on his appearance. He had of course put on my skinny black jeans convinced they were his. I don't know if it is just me that finds men's legs very funny if accentuated in any way... only because I have ladies legs... So if I see him hopping about with his hairy legs trying to do the cross trousers dance in the morning, in order to answer the door, I literally have hysterics...however this morning he surpassed himself - seeing him standing there with a pin stripe shirt on and jeans that looked like black tights on him, was a great start to the day. His genuine inquiry as to if his trousers looked ok, was what finished me off!
Also the weather today has made me reflective enough to think back over the summer, to the adventures I have had camping, and our epic trip over to Eastern Europe. Thank you everybody who has contacted me to make sure I have not gone away and stopped wittering on about nothing... I simply have been too busy with the children off school, and a few dramas along the way with our collective health.... AND my plan to write endless tales whilst installed in our caravan, with the battery being charged by solar panels, became kaput. Actually we have had many moments of battery fuss during the summer, I lost count of the amount of times we flattened the car battery in Bulgaria, but I did enjoy my new attempts to communicate in Bulgarian which was understood but caused collective laughter with neighbours - "Good morning my battery is asleep and the car does not go to work, please may I have strong help" really did get me through some epic moments.
Before we left to come back camping in the UK, we were able to enjoy lots of fresh grapes from the garden, and also to take some nice walks. It is safer to walk, as a large pack of dogs down the lane, have taken a terrible dislike to my husband's bicycle. It makes a diabolical squeaking noise, and the basket on the front rattles menacingly. The local dogs don't speak English so really don't wish to hear about 'go home', 'sit', or down... rather like the local cats look the other way if I say 'Pussy Puss Puss' etc. So as I looked at the rain this morning after the trouser episode, I was thinking back to the baking hot mornings only a few weeks back, where it became a daily ritual for my man to cycle to the bakery or general shop in Bulgaria. . The dogs all of a small to medium size would start snarling at the bike with it's abundance of terrible noises and then chase it. I hated to miss this spectacle, my husband would get up to some size able speed and just as the dogs caught up, in true yoga style, ride the bike with his legs up on the handle bars to avoid the nipping of his ankles. I miss that so much currently. I intend to make a film of it next visit out there.
I have also had less time in bed where I sometimes write when ill, this is for a very good reason. I am in much better health currently. The D Mannose for my constant inflamed bladder with regular infections has stopped this, and my LDN is working well, my thyroid is behaving better, and I have lost weight as a result. I am still gluten free and my diet is good as always...but the change in me now is very noticeable. It was noted at all hospitals that I have been to, (Four in the last few days), that I look different and much better. So there is hope, to be able to calm down five autoimmune conditions to something more manageable.
I have also started doing gigs again, so out there playing my violin, something which had been beyond me for the last three years. We did one in Bulgaria and have been invited back to do more, my son was on drums, and my husband on his wheezing black accordion, and my friend Hairy Legs on guitar. In fact we all got so over excited that we have now become addicted to buying second hand instruments in flea markets and came back with an accordion as hand luggage. It makes waiting in the queues at airports so much more interesting. My husband played lots of menacing sounding Eastern European tango tunes whilst sporting suspicious looking wrap around sunglasses and a swarthy unshaven tan.
Once back in the UK we celebrated by buying normal loo paper, having been used something similar to sandpaper on holiday.which optimistically has brand names in English such as 'Royal Luxury' I have been known to bring them back as unusual presents for friends with the right sense of humour. We then did more gigs, much to my amazement I was able to do two in a row. However a drama unfolded at one. A nosey and over zealous wasp flew down my ample top and stung my arm. I have waited for years to see what would happen with a wasp sting, not had one for years. I was not disappointed..I reacted straight away with pains in neck and arms, and shot off into the crowd to nab double antihistamines... I had trouble fro ten days after with cramps, the shivers and worse... so now I have to have an Epipen as the next one will be trouble! I was amused at one particular gig we did to see what I thought was a sea of grimacing women.. only to realize that they collectively had had so much botox, that they were actually smiling!
Coupled with the wasp fuss, and also a few hornets about the place, a plague of hideous flies descended on our village and drove us all nuts, so my man installed an electric fly zapper which omits a spooky blue light and zaps anything that is attracted to it with rather an alarming electrical frying noise. I find if I leave it on all night in a darkened house, by the morning whatever was there has gone!
Once the gigs had calmed down, it was time for my friend's hen night. This involved a group of shrieking women being taken across an estuary in a ferry boat privately laid on, but involving a strong wind, plenty of sea spray, and several versions of ladies with dresses blown up and over their heads leaving nothing much to the imagination and a trawler man with a face the colour of an aubergine, barely able to steer the boat. I kept my legs firmly shut and was wearing my best jeans, I don't do 'chilly'. Once in the pub, I sat next to the potential bride to help keep an eye on things and also next to a lady from a few miles away who told me great detail about her pet hairy tarantula and it's evening antics. I felt most bilious on the return ferry crossing and fell asleep after a certain amount of wine with a face resembling a bulldog chewing a wasp. The wedding itself was great, the bride behaved and so did I up to a point... apart from some terrible glaring I did after spying a few villagers - who had to be invited but have problem behavior, who put on a very typical village display of disapproving, red necked parochial ness, to remind me why I keep them at arms length and never allow them in the house.
As the end of the school holidays came into view, much to my disgust, I love having fun with the children... fun in the sun was replaced by hospital appointments in London. I had managed with over zealous communication to make them all fit in the same four days. So off I went with my daughter, the first drama was arriving at Liverpool Station... I was literally bursting for a tinkle and had fantasized about Starbucks and loo in their cafe... I had almost imagined that I was on the loo, only to rattle the door handle and find a sign saying closed...At great speed my daughter and I descended into the pay 30 p for the bogs experience underneath the station... I literally had steam coming out of my ears.. and then managed to make my handbag explode change over the floor, which of course was made up of many currencies, lots of Romanian, Polish and Bulgarian money... and very little English change. I then managed to get wedged in the turn styles, having sent my daughter off to find the loo.... and this triggered a member of staff to appear from a cabin. I dread to think what her job title was - 'toilet turn style operative in chief'... whatever it was her thunderous expression was far from amused. The next drama involved my new phone contract.. we have changed to a new one, so we can all speak and text for free. I was most grown up - as soon as I received my welcome text inviting me to allocate a number for voice mail. I did just that.... 123. However since that time every time I ring Voice mail or answer my Voice mail, I am now connected straight to the speaking clock from Accurist. I am biding my time, until I dare tell my young teenage son about this! It drives him mad my stupidity with technology.
Our time in London with hospital appointments and admissions passed quickly, especially as I saw many old friends and my eldest son...Yesterday with all appointment slots and admissions box ticked correctly, we traveled back home on the train... I sniggered for the last half of the journey with my daughter trying to make me be quiet, although I have to say she was in a similar state. A lady boarded the train wearing what I perhaps might describe as a woven pink bucket threaded with some sort of glittery thread, it looked as if it had been applied with a mallet... she then proceeded to take out a gigantic set of wind chimes and spend an hour untangling them, totally oblivious to the reaction of the rest of he carriage. She held them up high in one arm whilst detangling with the other, the noise relaxing and alarming at the same time, partly due to the intense ferocity of her un knotting skills.
I am back resting now...but I am significantly better.. once again I must chase after my Dr BDP diaries and post them off... as it is he who set me on the right track with my hypo thyroidism, which nobody doubts now... and the rest was up to me, I shall continue to work at my gluten free diet... which I don't cheat on...and to chip away with my exercise.......I am aiming to be 50 percent better than I was and so far I am about 40 percent better. I had hoped the LDN would work.... and it is!
More wittering and droning on soon.... my friend Dithers has been up to very many things and needs a whole episode just about her...I nearly evicted her computer out of the top floor window of her flats...the day before yesterday, but that is another story.
Mary F x
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