This morning after a night of extreme duvet turbulence brought about by the delights of my own itchy and scratchy show, I was rudely awoken by the unmistakable sound of a vomiting cat, unfortunately heaving heavily behind my bedroom curtains, it's explosive contents overspilling onto a hot radiator below. Job one after extracting elderly cat at high speed through some French windows downstairs, helpfully obscured by a mountain of velvet curtains in boxes and carpets in rolls. These on the 'jobs to do list today', although he, as in my husband is of course treble booked most of the day.
Job two was to find old paint trays and place under radiator so I could run some hot soapy water with disinfectant through them from the top to avoid the vilest of smells in my house becoming a permanent fixture. The sort of opposite to those ghastly scented synthetic plugs ins people have in their houses especially to bring on an allergy attack when I visit. Much cheaper to put neat lavender or other essential oils on a cloth and stick that on the radiator. This I have done as a final end to this morning first revolting job.
As I finished this and went in search of a husband who had been banished to the spare room on account of my latest autoimmune flare. Another vomiting noise, this time from a teenagers bedroom, however my daughters delights with this were for a different reason to the cat's. As far as I know she has not been in the back garden disembowelling rodents and biting their heads off.
I knew there was a bug in the house, I don't get the bug, instead I have head to toe Psoriarsis and joint swelling, plus itchy eyes, it is a case of sit and wait to see who has what. I went to bed feeling suitable bad tempered and foul last night. Today I am chasing up all the shopping he bought in IKEA and then left behind.
Once all sorted with Monday cleaning commenced downstairs, a steady stream of visitors/builders turning up to talk to me, actually they like my coffee, even though they are not working here today, one said, he has given up watching soap operas since working for us, he feels that if he visits with his mates daily he doesn't need to watch television any more, maybe somewhere in there is a compliment. They have all also been missing my man, he went off on his own for a week to have quiet time and read lot lots of books and treat himself to a nice cleanse. I suggested as he works full time and has myself and the children frequently ill that he needed a complete rest. Off he went to Bulgaria, his beer fuelled Skype sessions with me at all hours revealed a very novel type of cleanse which I may feel the urge to start myself due to how funny it appeared. I did miss him, and I am sure some of our new neighbours have also.
The ones that cut their grass with nail scissors and carefully, for some reason in the half light of dawn or dusk, poke sticks in other people's hedges, (done very secretly and furtively), although if I see them doing it, I put the outdoor floodlights on and bellow hello at them. This set may not have missed him so much. This set were quite visibly alarmed before his departure at some of his more extreme antics. Firstly two mattresses which he flung out of my daughter's bedroom window, were forgotten about for several hours and left on the front lawn. Later on after these had gone, out came a full sized carpet, he drove off and left that behind for me to dispose of. Actually it was in good condition apart from it's clearly neon pub pattern inspired by the 1980's and I put it on Freecycle. A Mr and Mrs with highly disturbing matching hair dye and perms picked it up almost straight away, and spent some time trying to get into my house to see if I had any more for them. They did not want to leave and were over familiar with me, wanting me to go and see the carpet in their new house, - (not thanks, I never want to see it ever again)!
Later on after the carpet and mattress fiasco, we had a vague attempt to sell an unwanted table on a second hand site. This was photographed on the front lawn and then forgotten about., and left in the centre of the grass for 24 hours. Our other neighbours who are very very lovely, have become more and more delighted with our antics as they are given a very hard time about nothing, by 'Mr and Mrs cut the grass with nail scissors'. Apparently our temporary displays of unwanted items will have caused apoplectic mayhem, and we have livened up the area and they are completely delighted with us.
Our nice neighbours have rather a stunning cat who Mr and Mrs cut the grass with nail sciossors, literally despise. The cat has rather brazen manners and likes to make itself known daily to us. Several times I have been awoken in the night to deep growling. I have been deeply alarmed each time thinking it was my man omitting rather exciting noises, or that I may need to slap somebody swiftly, but actually it is next door's cat on the bed with us, and upsetting my own mogs greatly! Also one of my cat's sleeps under our bed, so I have been subjected to stereo growling and moaning of the wrong sort, in the small hours. I have tried shutting the cat flap at night, but the brazen cat has learnt that I do this, and sneaks in during the day and hides before I shut it. Last time I did not let it out again, which has seem to put it off for the last week or so.
Meanwhile our new house move has gone well, we are nearly finished, apart from that teeth on edge clearing up bit, involving unpacking the last few boxes, curtain poles, curtains, tiling and final coats of paint on furniture. Since he has been back, he has been marching around with one of those dreadful head torches on, normally worn either by miners or gynaecologists, hmm yes, I can see the similarities in those career paths ahem cough etc. Last week we had the final window fit, the window fitter was very pleasant but spoke exactly like Frank Spencer, once I had noticed this it was not possible for me to be on the same floor as him.
My man has also been catching up on DIY, he now has three completely black finger nails, and in the middle of his last burst before his recent trip away, announced to me that he had to have new bicycle. Off we drove at great speed in the car, churning up our entire drive as we left, such was his desire not to let anybody else get it first. I sat in the car as he did the deal, and then out he popped on a completely fluorescent green and orange contraption. As a man approaching 60, I can honestly say he looked as if he was ten year's old and Father Christmas had just brought it for him. I was then left in the car as he took it for a test drive and forgot about the fact we had come in the car. I must say I have had a go on it, apart from the fact that everybody stares at it, it is rather good. I am by the way steadily increasingly my Nature Thyroid, and riding a bike albeit in short bursts is I am sure down to this. I look different already in terms of less water retention and have lost some weight. Onwards and upwards as they say outside of relying on NHS TSH testing and hot air from Endocrinologists.
My OTT furniture is nearly upcycled and finished, my ugly glass cabinet on ornate legs is now a sultry grey with shocking pink interior and LED pink fairy lights and crammed full of mine and his childhood toys, it bring some cheer to an otherwise boring hall. I have had some great help from a family friend from Mexico who has made endless things for me, including a floor to ceiling narrow shoe rack which hides behind the front door curtain, and is designed to avoid those 'where are my shoes' first thing in the morning dramas. Although of course this does not work for him, he can't put anything in the right places and then laments morning, noon and night about bags, phones, computers and shoes and on some days jackets also.
Unfortunate frumpy tiles which I could not look at, I affectionately referred to as 'granny fronds' have been chiselled out in the kitchen and bathroom, I left the rest as the quality of tiling is very good, plus nice and plain. In their place they have been filled in by very bright mosaics. The friend helping me with these said he would do anything at mates rates but I was to understand that under no circumstances would he do tiling. He has cursed me daily since he said that, and has done a fantastic job with lots of tiny and intricate tiles.
The builders have in the meantime kept a running commentary of anything my husband gets hold of, and monitor any dreadful DIY they see him doing. They were quite visibly disturbed to find that he had roared up in the car, running late and parked it on top of a pile of their rubble. They then spent quite some considerable time counting the dents and scratches on it. I also heard them saying that they were not going to keep their power tools on site over night in case he used them. There is a lot of good natured teasing between him and them, and they have not let him off the hook for leaving a skylight open and flooding their new loft conversion!
I keep them amused with my own stories... I have had very strange dreams of late, maybe it is my Thyroid adjusting. The other night was the worst one, Dithers has been staying here and regaling me with stories of her rather saucy dating, and elaborate and intricate feedback about her latest man. He appears to chase after her several times a week, wearing rather alarming sporty white outfits, a round of tennis, followed by a round of something with her! All the nice dinners we made together plus wine testing and hearing about her life must have fuelled my own nocturnal antics.
My latest dream, I might add after some celebratory wine to test my alcohol tolerance on Nature Thyroid. It was photographically clear. I was somewhere in the mountains, it was rather like one of those James Bond scenarios.. and in this particular dream, I was simply desperate for the loo, and the whole dream was around finding an ideal toilet facility. One did appear, a pristine lav, perched on a crisp white mountain side, no walls or privacy of course. I just had to use it, and made Dithers stand next to me for solidarity. As I sat there greatly relieved to be on it, along came Vladimir Putin, who seemed to want to have coffee with me. At this point I woke up and did that dance of the, lets not use the blood pressure machine this morning, dash to get to my own bog.
Today, I am supposed to be joining my husband on a promised, day off work together as we do all the outstanding jobs on the house. Here I am doing this, and no less than four musicians have turned up with double basses, guitars, banjos and other such things, for a spontaneous rehearsal that has just been arranged by him. Fat chance of doing anything. All they are doing currently is screeching out Hendrix tunes.
However once I have finished wittering on, I intend to unpack my 2,000 plus Ladybird books and put them on shelves. Last night I had a go at selling my spares on line, but instead bought even more, which is dreadful, and is not how I planned things.
More fuss soon.
Hey don't forget to sign and share this petition: epetitions.direct.gov.uk/pe... Surely ti would be better if we had a choice of medication? Only people power will help, we have to do more than just sign, we need to promote it and recruit others.